


Loves Trajectory is Entirely Predictable

by Detrimentality



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F, Mutual Pining, Slighty AU, Slow Burn, fluffness, lingering touches, nice, strangers to acquaintances to friends to more friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-10-20 10:29:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 29,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10660698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Detrimentality/pseuds/Detrimentality
Summary: Serena kicks a strangers wallet one day in Pulses and sets out to find the mysterious owner. What happens when she finally meets her?In which I totally lost control of this fic and is basically fluff on fluff. Just gals being pals.





	1. A Wallet

**Author's Note:**

> Slightly AU in the way that Bernie doesn't work on AAU (yet).  
> Strap in guys and get ready for a long haul.

It all started with a wallet. She had kicked it across the floor on her way to Pulses, mistakenly of course. Had flung it rather far, in haste to get her mid-morning expresso.

She found it under a chair, un-occupied thankfully. Quite dull to look at, but she figured it was good quality leather. Simple yet effective.

She opened it to find it devoid except for a driver’s license, a credit card and some cash, like the occupant had just bought it and had not completed the hand over.

The license read: WOLFE, BERENICE GRISELDA. And she had thought _how posh._

The photo was old; _this Berenice is due for a renewal_ she had murmured to the picture. She did a quick look around to see if anybody matched the photo, either she’s a staff member that had popped down for a quick drink, or a relative coming down to escape. But as she knew already, this person was long gone.

Someone nudged her arm and gestured to the waiting Pulses barista. She quickly stuffed the wallet into her pocket and ordered.

The rest of her shift on AAU went by fast but frustratingly, never a good mix. She never got the chance to ask the all-knowing porters about this Berenice. She doesn’t think she’s a part of staff because she would have gotten wind of the name at some point, but you never know, Hanssen could have hired someone recently. If she was a relative then there was a slim chance of ever finding her in the hospital.

 _In the hospital…._ That gave her an idea. She could just mail the wallet. Being in the hospital lost & found would do no wonders for this wallet and its theoretical owner.

She smiled triumphantly as she gathered her belongings and headed off the ward. As she walked to the car she pulled out the driver’s license again.

She looked at the address on the card _260 Spindle Road._ She punched it into her phone to see whereabouts this woman lived.

A bit far from the hospital, but still in Holby. _I could just drop it off I suppose_. No, that would just seem strange. Even the best of people would just mail it. _Oh sod it, my day off is tomorrow, might as well do something interesting._

And that’s how she found herself on a strangers front porch the next day.

*****

Being a senior consultant meant that she often had Saturdays off. A luxury she always tells younger staff members who complain of Friday night hangovers. She rises late and nonchalantly starts her morning, planning on dropping off the wallet around lunchtime.

Jason is off at work already. Scheduled regularly on weekends, the way he likes it. Told her once that weekends used to consist of him helping his mother do miscellaneous tasks. Now that he doesn’t have those odds and ends to do, he likes to work. To keep himself occupied.

Whenever he speaks of his mother that way, it brings tears to her eyes. _The mysterious sister I never knew, and never will_.

*

She pulled up to a semi-detached house. _Yes, quite posh_. She double-checked that it was the right address before stepping out of her car. _Okay, just stuff it through the mail slot and you can go get a nice meal in town._

She was about to slide the wallet into the slot when the door swung open.

“Oh, hello.” She says. A man stood in front of her eyeing her suspiciously.

“Can I help you?” He asks.

“Yes you can actually.” She smiles at him, despite his grim look. “I’ve got eh um--- Berenice Wolfe’s wallet?”

“Is that a question?” He grimaces at the sound of the woman’s name.

“No, no. I-I do have it.” _Why is she nervous?_ She has her hand with the wallet half raised when he speaks again.

“She doesn’t live here anymore; she’s free to have her sordid affairs all the bloody time now.” It looks like he’s about to spit on the ground at that point and she makes to back away. “I can take it though. I can do something kind for her but she can’t do the same for me.”

“That’s… quite alright. If you could just give me her current address, I can pop it in the mail.” She gives him a nervous smile. He rolls his eyes at her, exasperation written all over his square-jawed face.

“No, I can take it.” He quickly reaches for the wallet at her side. She snatches her hand away and clutches the wallet to her chest. “Look ma’am---“

“Ms. Campbell.” She retorts.

“Ms. Campbell,” he says awfully slowly. “ _Berenice_ and I are in the middle of a divorce and we haven’t sorted our addresses yet. Well, she hasn’t… but I can give her the wallet next time I see her.”

“Mr. um, Wolfe—“

“God no, Dunn.” He rolls his eyes, mummers something about her career status being more important than taking his name.

“Mr. Dunn, I’d be more comfortable if I just gave it to her. I know how divorces are; I wouldn’t want to have Edward keep my wallet for some lee-way or blackmail.”

“Now, hold on,” She winces, _too much I think_.

“Sorry, didn’t mean for it to sound like that, the thought of my cheating Ex-husband brings up bad thoughts.” At this, Mr. Dunn relaxes. _Common enemy I assume: deceivers._ He walks to a small table near the door and writes down an address for her.

“She’ll eat you alive Ms. Campbell.” He passes her the slip of paper, holding her gaze with a smug expression.

“Yes, ahem, quite. Thank you.” She turns to go, catches ‘Probably a damn lesbi---‘ before the door shuts behind her. _What is that supposed to mean?_

*****

When she looked up the address on her mobile, she found it to be fairly close to her house. About two streets away to be exact. Odd coincidence.

Since she was closer to the heart of town, she decided to have some lunch and do some shopping.

After a nice meal at a small bistro, she walks to a clothing store. Not chic in any way, more so the styles she likes to wear.

After trying a couple blouses and trousers on, she decides on the items she wants. It only takes a few minutes of negotiating – not arguing – with the store clerk to give her a _slight_ discount stating that the ‘buy one get one half price’ should apply to both her tops, even though they weren’t in the same section.

“Thank you Cathy, I will recommend this store to all my lady friends.” She smirks at the young girl. She hears a snort behind her, and turns when the woman speaks.

“I’m sure all your lady friends will love the ‘discount’” The woman puts air quotes around the last word. The woman looks familiar but she can’t put her foot on it.

“Love a bargain,” She tells the woman. “Speaking of bargain, Cathy, I believe the two tops this woman is holding have the same discount.”

“Yes,” Cathy takes the woman’s items. “These ones actually fall under the same discount.”

“So did mine,” she whispers quietly. The woman pulls out cash to pay for her items whilst holding a smile. “Well, lovely to meet you Cathy, and um—,“ She looks to the woman with the blonde curls.

“Bernie.” Raises her hand for a handshake.

“Serena.” She says, taking Bernie’s hand, holding her gaze.

“Okay ma’am, your items. Have a nice day.” Cathy says. Breaking their concentration on each other.

Bernie gathers the bag and follows Serena out the door. “Those are nice blouses you bought Serena, if you don’t mind me saying.”

Serena clears her throat. “Not at all. One of the perks of being a consultant. Get to wear my own clothes. I don’t have to wear ghastly scrubs all day.”

“Oh, you’re a doctor?” Bernie asks, surprise in her voice. When Serena nods she asks, “What hospital?”

“Good old Holby,” Serena tells her. “Consultant on AAU.” They fall into step with each other.

They walk together across the square, multicoloured shops surrounding it on three sides. Neither of them speak for a while, both enjoying the unhurried pace.

Serena glances from the corner of her eye at this woman she just met. All she really took in at the shop was a mop of blonde hair and soft eyes. From what she can see now – very subtly, mind you – is that Bernie looks to be about her age, and looks very good for it. _I wonder what she does for a living to keep up with her age like that_.

Bernie casually speaks as if she just drilled into Serena’s head and peered down into her thoughts, “I’ve just started at Holby, the other month. I’m down in ED.” Serena almost chokes at that statement. Hiding the surprise with a cough and a huff of a laugh.

“I guess we’ll be seeing more of each other then.” Doesn’t say anything more on the subject, thinks that this Bernie woman’s not the type to like interrogation-esque questions about her whole life.

They approach the car park where Serena’s Saab is parked. “Ah well, here I am.” Serena sees that Bernie isn’t walking to any cars around them. “Are you parked at this lot?” She asks.

“No, no. Came by bus. Lost my wallet with uh—my license inside. Didn’t want to risk driving without it.” Bernie says sheepishly.

“Ever the law bearer.” She thinks for a moment before tilting her head to the side with a questioning look, “You lost your wallet you said?”

Bernie nods. “Yeah, don’t know how it happened. Might have lost it in the hospital. It figures, it was new.” She pouts a bit at that point. “Only had my license and credit card and ca—“

“Cash,” Serena finishes softly.

“Yes,” Bernie squints at Serena. “How did you…?”

Serena digs into her handbag, picking out the leather wallet. “I knew because, I believe this is yours.” She wiggles the wallet in the air before placing it in Bernie’s hand. “Bernie is short for Berenice I presume? And Griselda, hmm lovely.”

“Yes well, you should have met my mother. Antoinette, and so it goes,” Serena raises her eyebrows at the name. “Yes, I know. As posh as they come.” And Serena thinks, _is this woman mapping out my brain._

They stand smiling at each other until a car alarm in the distance goes off.

“This is all very strange Serena. What are the odds? Thank you for the wallet. It was at the hospital then?” Bernie seems jumpy as she talks, as if she shouldn’t be here, with Serena. “Yes, um. I better be heading home now.” She walks away, heading for the bus stop near the car park.

Serena doesn’t move. Stands there and watches as Bernie walks farther away. _Yes, this is strange. But didn’t I want this day to be interesting?_ She decides then to change how this’ll end.

“Bernie!” She calls out. Bernie stops, but doesn’t turn around. Forced to yell at her back Serena says, “I know this is strange, but let me drive you home.”

“You don’t know where I live.” Bernie moves until her side is facing Serena. Fringe covering her face.

Serena chooses not to tell Bernie that she’s already been to her house, well, her old house, with her old husband... and has her new address. She speaks softly, “You can show me, I don’t mind. It is Saturday after all.” And at that Bernie looks up. A faint smile on her lips. “Could do with a nice drive.” She adds, although she knows that Bernie’s address is very close to her own.

After some more encouragement – on Serena’s end, Bernie does NOT want to be burden, even offers to pay for gas, which Serena declines profusely — they both get into the car and while she starts the engine Bernie says, “I could be a serial killer or something, preying on women with rather good taste in blouses.”

“Not with a name like Berenice you aren’t.” She pulls onto the road and they both share a genuine laugh. _Is she… honking? This_ is _interesting._

*****


	2. A fuming lady and a disappearing act

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the comments and kudos. This is my first fic, that I've posted at least. My sister is very happy that I've chosen to go down the deep dark hole of FF writing ;).  
> Hope you enjoy this chapter.

The drive home goes off without a hitch. Both falling into pleasant conversation about something or another. Serena fails to mention that she lives only two streets away. Only offering that Bernie’s quaint terrace is close by to her own home. Somewhere along the way she gives her phone number to Bernie, mentions that they could carpool from time to time. She doesn’t know where that offer came from but feels like she’d quite enjoy carpooling with Bernie. She also says ‘next time you lose your wallet, you should just call me’.

Bernie sends her a quick text as she gets in the door saying ‘Thank you ~ B’ and Serena saves her number to her phone. Responds with an ‘anytime ~ S’

Soon Jason will be home and her life will get back to normal.

*****

Going into her position as a senior in the ED, Bernie thought it would be more…exciting per se. Usually she just gets stuck doing assessments and then herds the patient off onto another ward. She does surgeries from time to time, but only in dire circumstances, and even then, she hardly ever does the follow up. The patients get sent to a recovery ward and she rarely sees them again.

Being a senior staff member, she mostly teaches younger doctors. She’s used to doing that, from her time in the army. But she misses the action, the thrill of difficult surgeries. She can’t say that she’d miss looking at X-rays and casting off wrists by the hour if she were to be reassignment to another job position.

Plus, she never sees Serena either.

Her department is at the back of the hospital far, _far_ away from where AAU is situated. It is also far away from Pulses. That one time, where she lost her wallet, most likely being the last visit. She figured that coffee is coffee anywhere you go. Although she would like to see Serena again…

No, she should forget about Serena. Along with starting a new job, away from the army, and her divorce from Marcus. She decided to stay in Holby to be closer to her children, though not much has come out of that yet.

She unconsciously rubs at the still red scar bisecting her upper chest. The past couple months passed by her in a blur of pain medication and wanting to get back on her feet and work. Thought the ED would fulfil some void that’s been lurking in her for some time now, but it just isn’t doing the job.

After a few weeks of doing the same mundane tasks, she realizes that some faces are more familiar than others. Finds that some patients, usually older ones or drug addicts, are frequent visitors. She starts to come up with absurd theories, underground poker ring, elderly drug smugglers, even pillow hoarding.

But eventually that excitement simmers down and she realizes that it is most likely a systemic problem.

_I need to get out more, no; I need something productive to do. With the ED. Make a difference.  
_

*****

Many would say Serena has her fair share of miserable days. When she gets blood on her shoes, or sputum coughed up in her face, or even when she goes to take a sip of coffee and finds that it has gone cold. On this particular day though, Serena looks about ready to boil over, ready to knock over anyone in her warpath.

She knocks once on the heavy wooden door before pushing it open. She all but shouts, “Henrik, I hope you have a bloody good explanation for this.” She raises the memo she received in her mail tray this morning.

Hanssen swivels in his chair slightly to face her, wearing his usual blank face. He gestures to one of the chairs in front of his desk, silently asking her to take a seat.

Serena steps forward until she is right up against the desk, refuses to sit down. “I do not need to be babysat,” she says sternly.

“There is no babysitting Ms. Campbell. It has been brought to my attention that early-unplanned readmission into the ED has steadily increased over the past year.” He says flatly, which makes Serena clench her fist.

“That seems to be an ED problem not AAU’s.” Serena can feel her fingernails digging into her palm. By being the only consultant on AAU, and a woman, she has had to prove herself to the board and to her staff every day. Any problem that happens will always fall back onto her.

“Yes, but many patients go through your ward after they are seen at the ED, which makes AAU a part of this. An overall 28-day readmission rate of 15.3% has been recorded in the past 10 months. A number that has steadily increased 5% just in the last 5 years. You, Ms. Campbell, can understand the cause of concern for this.”

Serena, a vascular surgeon, was first brought to Holby to make things run more smoothly. Even making it so that surgeries were lined up like packages in a factory. Going so far as to creating a non-referral scheme that went utterly downhill in a short amount of time.  _Wouldn’t want something like that happening again._

She takes a seat and levels out her breathing, crinkles the paper in her hands. When Hanssen sees that she has herself in order, he starts. “Ms. Campbell, there will be an investigatory board of supervisors that will be on AAU the week after next. A mix of statistical professionals and medical professionals sent from the board and ED will be in attendance, along with me. The same is happening for the ED. You will also be able to attend the ED viewing, if you wish to speak with the consultants there.”

“And what will come of it?” She is curious as to how the hospital can miraculously decrease these numbers; it seems that they are inevitable.

“This is just a precaution. To see that AAU and the ED are not sending patients home too early. Many of the recurring patients are older, which means we may have to implement a referral scheme for the geriatrics unit. But, we will cross that bridge when we get to it.” He straightens the papers on his desk. “That is all I have to say about the matter. You will receive an email when we have the date in place for the visitations.” Henrik has a way of dismissing someone without even telling them so, Serena thinks.

Serena makes her way out of the office, but before she leaves she turns back to Hanssen. “Henrik, I’m awfully curious, who brought up this concern?”

Hanssen speaks matter-of-factly, “the new ED senior doctor, a, Ms. Wolfe I believe.” He turns back to his computer at that statement, dismissing her altogether. Before she fully closes the door she hears him callout, “you need not worry Ms. Campbell, this is all preliminary.”

*****

Bernie decides to make the trek to Pulses one morning. She heard back from the board about her concerns and they are pursuing an investigation. Not that she actually wanted that to happen, ‘investigation’ makes it sound so serious, when in actuality it could just be individually based. She just wanted to know why she sees some patients three/four times a week.

Approaching Pulses Bernie starts to regret coming all the way. The line is long and winds around a pole. She watches for a moment and rules that it’s moving quickly, so she takes a step in line. She digs her hand into her pocket to find the change she put in it earlier. Focused on trying to count out the amount needed for a coffee, she doesn’t recognize the person standing in front of her until she hears the voice.

“Strong and hot is the way I like it Jason, I don’t need anything else.” Bernie whips her head up to see the woman that’s been on her mind periodically for the past couple weeks. She is standing next to a taller man, hunched over her, suspicion written on his face. Serena doesn’t notice Bernie behind her, continues to talk to the young man, “Would you like me to get a hot chocolate for you?”

“Yes please.” He answers politely. Serena huffs and moves forward in line. Bernie naturally follows, stuck between wanting Serena to turn around and not wanting to be seen at all.

Distracted by her appearance in a bright pink top, and not own her feet, the next step Bernie takes lands on the back of Serena’s heel.

Serena turns sharply. “Oh, excuse me.” Bernie says in a quiet voice, eyes cast down. She can feel Serena’s eyes boring a hole in her forehead. “Sorry.”

“Bernie.” Her voice is soft. Bernie raises her eyes to Serena’s unreadable face. She heard from a few porters who run between AAU and the ED that the consultant on AAU has been in a foul mood because of the investigatory board that will be making rounds soon. _Does she know I was the one who caused her bad mood? I was only trying to help the patients._

“Ah, so you’re Bernie.” Jason exclaims from Serena’s side. He turns to look at Serena. “Her hair is much nicer than what you told me.” There’s a pause and Serena looks rather flustered.

Then Bernie starts laughing. Not the honking Serena heard the other time but softer. Jason joins in with his own laugh causing Serena’s cheeks to flare up.

The line moves up further, Serena and Jason being the ones up next. Serena speaks before turning back around, “Yes, well, It was nice seeing you.” At that, Bernie knows that Serena’s being dismissive.

Not wanting another person to only see her faults, Bernie lightly touches the elbow at Serena’s side. “Serena I was, uh, wondering if I could speak to you. Once you get your coffee of course.” Her face has pleading written all over it, knows Serena can see it.

Serena quirks an eyebrow, “and what do you want to speak about Bernie? Maybe how what you did is causing unneeded commotion. Or how most of my staff is fretting over something that is most obviously ED’s problem, or how—“

“Aunty Serena,” Jason, who seems to have heard the exchange but hasn’t said anything, points to the young girl behind the counter.

Serena orders without looking back at her, she grabs her coffee and Jason grabs his hot chocolate. Bernie thinks it will be the last she sees of Serena for a while, but Serena turns around just after Bernie has placed her order.

“Look, I know it’s not your fault for the whole investigation committee coming on board, but it is such a setback for AAU.” Bernie is surprised Serena is even talking to her, “In my history whenever something like this happens someone either gets moved, sacked, or killed.” Bernie wonders whether the last point is joke, figures it must be, _surely no one has died from something like this before have they?_

The barista calls Bernie’s order, hands her the coffee. When she turns around, she sees that Serena is gone. For some reason she feels disheartened, unfinished business and… otherwise.

She’s not so surprised at that.

*****

It’s the fastest she has moved in a while. Jason was already waiting for her by the elevator and just as she approached him, they opened.

Standing in the elevator, she looks out before the doors close, sees Bernie look around, confusion upon her face, _and is that? Disappointment?_

She spends the afternoon contemplating what to do. Should she stay mad? Go with it? Talk to her, or ignore her? She considers texting her to ask her for drinks at Albie’s, but thinks that’s too….friendly, and she can’t quite say they’re even friends at the moment. They’ve only talked twice at this point. _But it feels like I know her_.

She chooses to do nothing. Goes home with Jason, awaits the date for when the judge and jurors invade her workplace, and hopes that nothing goes wrong.

*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How fast do you think Serena sprinted away?  
> I'm finished this fic, but will release it gradually (every four days I've decided for some reason), because I'm currently working on a modernized Random Harvest inspired AU. Which is hard because how do you make someone completely unknown these days?  
> Oh well, expect the next chap by Tues(g)ay™


	3. A visit and a broken car

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for the comments/kudos.  
> Here's the next chapter with some lingering touches/gazes :)

They come on a Monday. Typical. A whole wad of them. A mix of medical and non-medical professionals, just as Hanssen said. They say they’ll be intermittently popping between AAU and ED for the week, mingling with staff and patients, broaching individual views of overall care. They say not to worry, act as usual. No one will even notice them. _Of course we will._

On the second day of being besieged by people in suits, Serena takes Hanssen up on his offer and accompanies him down to ED. She’s not been down to the ED in a while, usually business between the two happen in boardrooms. Thinks the ED is rather dull, but that’s just her opinion.

She sees a couple of suits striding along, trying to look like they know where they’re going, or what they’re doing. Serena gives them all amiable smiles as they pass her. She herself wanders around. Subconsciously walks the perimeter of the ED looking for something in particular.

She then sees her across the ward, in a cubicle. Watches her through a small slit in the curtains that surround the hospital bed. Her hands are moving in a way that tells her she’s stitching someone, probably a forehead.

Serena stands there, eyes following the steady movements of someone who could most likely stitch in their sleep, and she feels mesmerized. Even forgets that she is in the middle of people’s paths.

She continues to look at Bernie, observes her carefully take off her gloves, laying them in the kidney dish with the used suture kit. Follows her with her eyes as she hands the dish to a nurse, also notices that she’s making her way to the side of the ward where she continues to stand stock still.

Panicking at Bernie’s approach she swiftly grabs the first folder she finds and pretends to read it. Starts to subtly cover her face with it, but thinks that looks rather foolish and lowers it.

“Serena!” Bernie comes to stand in front of her wearing a genuine smile. “Have you come to see if ‘patient care is being held to the utmost standard’ down here in ED?” Her eyes are gleaming. Her short hair is tied up, but her fringe is still covering her eyes. And all Serena can think is how well she makes it all look.

“I thought I’d see the competition,” she tries to joke, finds that it falls flat. Bernie is still staring at her with that goofy grin and she finds herself smiling back. “I came to look around yes, but I also wanted to apologize for the other day.”

“Oh, no, Serena. You’ve no reason to.” A bed is wheeled close by them, Bernie takes her elbow and guides her off near a wall. “I wanted to explain to you my concerns over the readmissions, that’s all. I didn’t know Hanssen would make AAU a part of it. I just, find that I need to do something for the ED, for the patients.”

“I understand Bernie, I do.” She clarifies. Notices that Bernie’s hand hasn’t moved from her elbow. “I don’t want anything… sour between us. We hardly know each other, I’d rather not have an almost-stranger my enemy. Would you?”

Bernie shakes her head, mouth parted in astonishment. _Probably didn’t expect me to be so…cordial._

“Right then,” Serena sticks out her hand, “Serena Campbell, pleasure to meet you.” Bernie promptly takes her hand.

“Bernie Wolfe, and pleasure is all mine Ms. Campbell.” They hold each other’s hands for what seems like an over-familiar time before a nurse comes running up to them.

“Ms. Wolfe!” A woman with light brown hair holding a tablet comes to stand next to them, or rather, next to Bernie. “The results are back for the urgent case, Mrs. Hinders.” Bernie takes the device and reads it over, the nurse right at her shoulder. _Rather personal I’d say._

“Looks like there may be some kidney damage. Can you get me transfer papers for Keller ward?” Bernie’s gaze is on the device, but when she notes that the nurse has yet to do what she asks, Bernie looks up. She passes the tablet to the nurse, who in return is staring right into Bernie’s eyes. “Nurse Lynn? The papers?” She repeats, seemingly unaware of the not so professional attention coming from the nurse.

After another pointed look from Bernie the nurse heads off, rather reluctantly, Serena observes. “You’ve got quite the admirer.”

“Nurse Lynn?” Bernie asks nonchalantly, her gaze finding Serena’s once again. “Oh no, she admirers everyone.” Serena smirks.

Serena steps forward into Bernie’s personal space, doesn’t know why she does it, maybe it’s the big flirt in her. Leans forward until her mouth is near Bernie’s ear. “There’s a lot to admire about you Bernie, any young nurse could see that.” She pats Bernie’s upper arm and retreats back to AAU. Leaving behind a confused Bernie Wolfe for a second time.

*****

Ever since the accident, the accident where all she remembers is tasting blood – most likely from biting her tongue – she can’t seem to get up as early.

Her days in the army, even when she was a teenager, she would rise early. Not terribly early, like 4am, but maybe 6am or 7am. Normally when the sun rose, she rose. She would get up and start her day proper. Prep her equipment in the medical building, introduce herself to the new medic recruits, get outside and take in the sun before she’s stuffed in a musty and sweaty building until dark.

She would also jog, if the area she was working at was secure. She would go explore, each day taking a new path. She would see people living their lives amongst war, just going about their day. It amazed her every time.

On free days she would go into the city and explore the shops, went to restaurants where they had food you could only ever imagine. She loved mornings.

Nowadays she just groans whenever the alarm beeps at 6am.

That time off did her head in. With the lack of energy coupled with the pain medication, she had gotten used to waking past 9am. One morning she even awoke on a dark rainy day and found that it was 11am, she hadn’t slept that late since med school.

But this particular morning she feels elated. A sporadically scheduled 8-hour shift. Her foot doesn’t have to step into the ED until 3pm.

And yet she convinces herself to rise early – well, early enough --- get outside, try to find parts of her old self again.

She sets out mid-morning. Greets the neighbors out on their porches, one of them being Mrs. Wilmingham. A nice older woman who brought Bernie a box of cookies over one evening after she moved in. Said to her, anyone who joins their little Terrace receives a welcome package. She offered an invitation to come over to hers whenever Bernie felt like a chat. She’s not used to that kind of open friendliness.

She heads to the park nearby, strolls along the walkway. Says a hello to other walkers and joggers, thinks to herself that she’ll take up jogging again when the time comes.

She comes to know the neighborhood she’s living in from the sidewalk instead of the road and it makes her feel a bit better, not like a foreigner staying temporarily. _Although you never know do you?_

Feeling her stomach grumble in protest of only getting coffee and a biscuit this morning, she decides to head back home. Instead of going straight down her street, she chooses to take a longer way home. It’s a nice day and she’ll still have time to make herself lunch before heading off to work.

Walking up a street with large houses and nice lawns, she hears a woman yelling. It sounds one sided, as if the other person is getting a right beating. She walks down the sidewalk warily, not wanting to be seen in case she gets the ‘what are you looking at, this is none of your business’, which she’s actually gotten a few times back in her old neighborhood with Marcus. She frowns at that.

She approaches the raised voice and she realizes that she recognizes it. Bernie sees a woman pacing back and forth behind a car that has light grey smoke spewing out of it.

Bernie feels herself smile as she sees that it’s Serena. _Does she live here? Is she visiting someone?_ Serena is animatedly arguing on the phone.

Serena is facing away from Bernie, doesn’t see her walking up. “Which part of ‘I need my car today’ are you struggling to understand? Hello?”

“Engine been growling or whining?” Serena twists around to look at her when she speaks. “Any intermittent smell of hot or burning rubber?” Bernie flashes a cheeky grin at her.

Serena raises her eyebrows. “Define intermittent”

Bernie waltzes over to stand by the car, points to one of the parts under the hood. “Alternator might be cactus.”

“I’ll be cactus if I can’t get anybody to fix it now.” Serena answers. When Bernie looks at her questioningly, Serena explains further. “I’ve got to be at work soon and I can’t flag out to the shop because, as you know, the investigation is still going on. I can’t not show up and leave a registrar to run the ward. Suppose I could take a cab in, take the car to the shop after the weekend.”

“That’s nonsense,” Serena looks at her as if she’s speaking gibberish. Bernie rights herself, takes a gulp of air. “No, what I mean is, what time are you on?”

The brunette speaks tentatively, “three o’clock. Why?”

Bernie gives her a reassuring smile. “Me too, and since we’re both going to the same place, I can drive you. Horribly timed car troubles solved. Well, not the engine problem, the drive to work problem. And I can drive you home too, that is if we finish at the same time. I finish at 11, although with shift change paperwork, it could go on to 1130, but then—“

“Bernie,” Serena raises a hand to stop her from rambling on. “I would appreciate a drive in, if it’s not too much trouble, I also end at 11 and would be glad of a ride home.”

Bernie smiles wide, “Perfect! So,” She gestures to the large house. “You live here? My name might be posh but this is….wow.”

“Well, when you find your husband in bed with another woman you get the good things in the divorce.” Serena sounds bitter but has an impish grin plastered on her face. “I ran Edward ragged through the divorce and it felt marvelous.”

Bernie didn’t know Serena was divorced. In fact, she hardly knows Serena. Didn’t even know they lived so close, and it makes Bernie feel a sort of detachment from the woman in front of her. She seems to get mixed messages, at one point they could be talking like strangers and the next Serena is whispering in her ear. In the middle of the ED nonetheless!

“So, shall we say 2:15? Or earlier, or later, not sure how fast you drive. I should eat something before going. I know we live close, sorry I never mentioned it. Seems strange does it not?” Now Serena was the one rambling and Bernie finds it endearing, so, they probably felt the same way around each other.

“2:15 sounds great. I’ll see you then Serena.”

Bernie touches Serena’s arm as she passes her. Stops for a moment with just her hand on Serena, she turns to look at her, studies Serena’s face. Probably stands there too long because Serena starts to open her mouth to speak but Bernie just smiles and squeezes her arm. She heads down the sidewalk, back towards her terrace home, leaving Serena the one now slightly confused.

*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never watched casualty, have no idea how the ED works. Just based it on trips to the Emergency myself.


	4. A drive in and a RTC

Bernie arrived at 2:15 – give or take an extra 10 minutes – sporting a rather noticeable grease stain on her upper chest. Bernie looked down at the stain on her black and white striped shirt and just stated that the bacon won the fight this time. She prefers scrubs to work in anyways.

Bernie’s car was small and low, much more than her own was. She practically fell into the seat when getting in and laughed it off, if not with a slight flush to her cheeks. Bernie had said that you get used to it after a while, might even build up her leg strength. Then caught what she said and had mumbled ‘Not that you need to Serena, um, your legs are fine as they are,’ which Serena chuckled at.

They arrived at the hospital on time; Bernie is a very precise driver, who very much likes her corners. Serena had to hold on to the handle by her side as Bernie turned many times without braking. Serena was going to chastise her about road safety but knew Bernie was in control. Plus, whenever she would look over at Bernie a wide smile would be on her face, her eyes would squint with delight, and if Serena was honest with herself, it made Bernie look truly radiant.

Serena had to heave-ho out of the convertible. Bernie had pulled round to the Wyvern wing to drop her off, said that her parking spot was closer to the ED. She told Serena to text when her shift was finished so they could meet and leave together.

As she retrieved her bags she thanked Bernie, had told her how _wonderful_ the ride had been. Bernie responded with a ‘no problem, but you should see her with the top off going 70 down the coast. It’s beautiful.’ Then she was gone, thought to herself that she’d quite like to see that one day….

She was still standing where Bernie had dropped her off when Raf approached her, coming back from his break. He gave her a look but she brushed it off and headed inside to buy a coffee before heading into mayhem.

 

Now she stood at the edge of the nurse’s station pretending to read a patient file as she watched the suits circle the patients in beds. If anybody asked her if she was worried, she would tell them straight away no. Nevertheless, she knows AAU is the bottom of the barrel, people are sent here to live out their sentences.

That’s how she got down here, she handled Keller poorly. The Scheme happened, Mr. Mooney had died, she tried for CEO but failed and now here she is 5 years later, running the ward herself. Even though she’s done a brilliant job here, deep down she knows she’s replaceable, always has been.

She’s brought out of her rumination when she notices Hanssen making his way through the double doors. He nods her way in acknowledgment as he goes over to talk with the committee members.

The doors swing open again; expecting to see a new admission Serena puts the unread file down. Instead of it being a patient, it’s Bernie. Her hair is tied back and she’s changed out of the clothes she was wearing earlier. Although Bernie is out of the shirt with the unattractive stain on it, Serena thinks the portaloo green scrubs – a running joke among the upper wards – aren’t much better.

They make eye contact and Serena quickly picks up the file again, makes to look busy instead of staring. Thinks back to the ED, the last time she did this. _Why do I act so foolish around her?_

In her haste she’s grabbed the file by the wrong end, causing all the papers to spill out. She’s not fast enough to catch them, and they all spread out around her feet.

She’s crouched down, hurriedly gathering the papers whilst simultaneously muttering to herself, when Bernie mimics her position in front of her.

“You don’t have to, I’m quite alright.” She shifts on her heel to try to reach a paper. Before she can grasp it, Bernie’s hand shoots out and picks it up. She looks up at Serena with a pointed expression.

“I want to Serena, it’s no problem.” Bernie smiles at her. Serena notices a slight wince from Bernie as they both stand when all the papers have been collected. She takes the papers Bernie hands to her, slips it into the file and lays it all on the desk.

“Everything alright? With your back that is.”

“Oh yes. Just an old injury coming to bite me. Nothing to worry about.” Bernie reassures. She looks around at all the committee members doing their checks. “I see you’ve got quite the full house.”

“Ah, yes. Just the vultures circling their prey.” She sees Bernie frown. “Not your fault Bernie, remember. It was bound to happen. Some F1 or head nurse would have caught on. I just hope that they set up a program or otherwise. I’d hate to see someone gutted for something like this.”

“Hey,” Bernie presses two fingers on Serena’s forearm for a moment. “Nothing like that will happen, best case someone gets promoted!” They share a laugh and turn their heads at the same time to watch Hanssen walking up to them.

“Ms. Campbell, Ms. Wolfe. I have spoken to the committee members. Today will be their last day of ‘visitations’. They will make a consensus and will release the results late next week. If you have no questions I’ll be making my lea—“

“Ms. Campbell!” Raf jogs towards the three. “ED has just called, big RTC, 2 casualties on the scene already. Dozens injured. ETA fifteen minutes.”

“Okay everybody,” Serena yells around the ward, all heads turn to look at her. “I want areas for beds cleared, now. Prep the theatre in case we need to do any surgeries. Fletch, I’d like you to go wait by the doors, tell the paramedics where to bring the patients.”

“I’d like to stay and watch Ms. Campbell.” Hanssen tells her.

“Only if you want to help Henrik.” Serena answers.

“Of course.” He turns to look at Bernie. “Ms. Wolfe, care to stay? I’m sure Ms. Beauchamp has it under control down in ED, you can stay to help here.” He finalizes.

“Yes, right, fine. I’m going to go change into scrubs.” Serena hurries off.

*****

They’re waiting by the nurses station, ETA 5 minutes. Serena’s changed into light blue scrubs, which Bernie thinks looks rather nice on her. Other patients already occupy four of the six beds so they have prepared areas around the ward to put the surplus of patients.

Bernie feels the adrenaline course through her. This’ll be the first time anything this exiting will happen to her since she started at Holby. Maybe she’ll even be able to go into theatre and perform. She’s technically just a registrar on ED, way below her specialty, but the job was there, and she took it.

“Sorry, what’s your area of work?” She’s brought out of her thoughts as Serena speaks, she looks over to see the woman staring directly at her. “Ms. Wolfe? I know you are a general registrar, but is that all?”

She blinks at the question; she’s forgotten that Serena knows nothing about her or her past, so she puts it in the briefest of summaries. “I am, or I was, a trauma surgeon in the RAMC, served in Afghanistan training young medics. I got caught up in an IED, took 6 months to recover. I received a medical discharge from the army so I decided to stay in Holby. There was a position in the ED, I thought it could be the change of pace that I needed, and now here I am.”

Three sets of eyes were staring at her. Hanssen, who looks unfazed, already knows her background she thinks, being the CEO and all. But Serena, and the young man who introduced himself as Raf, both have looks of surprise on their faces.

“Yes, I know, it’s a step down from my past but it’s been, uh, nice? My left hand was badly injured; I’ve been through a lot of physio for it. The army wouldn’t take me back and I’ve been easing my way back into surgeries.” She flexes her left hand subconsciously, and the action doesn’t go unnoticed by Serena. It looks like she’s about to speak when Fletch comes rushing through the doors.

“They’re on their way up now.” He pants out.

Porters and paramedics soon flow through the doors pushing gurneys occupied by people soaked in blood and caked in soot. An influx of people fill the small ward with loud voices and groans accompanying them. She sees Serena going over to the first sets of gurneys and pointing to where the paramedics can put them. The people coming through the doors seems endless and soon there are people everywhere. _Right, this is my specialty._

Bernie helps patients into beds and checks them over for initial injuries. Hanssen and Raf are doing the same. Serena is talking to relatives, trying to convince them to go stay in the waiting room.

Bernie glances around the ward as she does palpations on a patient’s abdomen. The ward is a mess, people everywhere, and no clear sign as to any triage occurring. She finishes with the patient, speaks with the nurse, and heads over to Serena.

“It’s a bit all over the place isn’t it?” She asks Serena.

“Yes well, some of the juniors might never have seen anything like this before.”

“Last five minutes have been like my old stomping grounds,” they share a laugh before she says, “bottom line is we’re not equipped for a trauma bay.”

“Welcome to the cash strapped NHS.” Serena grimly retorts.

“And we’re in danger of getting swamped.” A gurney comes towards them and Serena picks up a file to begin reading it.

“Yeah, well I was worried about that myself.”

“Why don’t I organize things like I would in the field?” Bernie expectantly asks.

“Do you think?” Serena asks back.

“I guarantee we’ll get through the numbers quicker and cleaner.”

Serena is silent for a moment before saying, “okay, let’s do it Kandahar style.”

Bernie gets the go ahead and starts her work. Setting up areas where patients who are in more need of attention can be placed. Patients in dire need of surgery are positioned near the theatre doors and less severe cases are placed closer to the consultant’s office.

She has Fletch gather equipment suitable for quick surgeries after Serena said she can do it her way. A lot of nuts and bolts that will hold anything from a door to a vertebrae together. Hanssen has taken a step back and is now standing with the committee members who all surprisingly wear blank faces.

After prioritizing all the patients, she and Serena head into theatre. Serena initially takes control of the operation but after some persuasion on her part – stating that with her method things will go quicker – Serena relents.

She knows the woman standing across the table from her is used to being in charge, can appreciate it even, she knows the feeling herself. To let someone else take the reins can be difficult so she tries to make it easier for Serena, explains all the bits and bobs that she’s using.

“This is what should be happening here. It gets the job done quicker with the same results.” She explains to Serena as she drills into bone.

She hears a chuckle from Serena, “you’re in your element.”

“Nothing like a bit of DIY to brighten your day, or to take your mind off other things.” She sounds solemn and she knows it. Can’t help feeling bitter at times and Serena picks up on it.

“Do you miss it?” The brunette tilts her head, studies Bernie’s eyes for the response. “The army, and everything that happened…before?” She asks quietly.

“5-0 prolene,” she tells the scrub nurse. She starts to suture the wound, buying time before answering. “I miss parts, bits and pieces I suppose. The exhilaration, the hard work. Teaching the younger medics. I miss my kids, I don’t see them as often since the…divorce started. They’re angry with me, and I’m angry at Marcus. I guess you could say my personal life got blown up by an IED as well.”

“I for one know about take it to the grave grudges, you can have all you want with Marcus, but don’t hold it against your kids. They’re angry now, but they’ll come round.” Bernie finishes suturing, taking in every word Serena just told her. She realizes that she’s not talked to anyone about her thoughts, about what happened, not since Alex left her all those months ago. She feels warmth spread through her, happy that someone is actually listening and giving advice.

“Okay, I think that’s done. Let’s close up and move to the next one. 4-0 prolene please.” She smiles up at Serena, well, at least tries to with her eyes. Spots the reflection of Hanssen leaving the observation room.

“Right soldier, what’s next?”

*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea where the ED is located in relation to Wyvern Wing. I read somewhere it's at the back of the hospital.


	5. A messy ward and a misty night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for all the lovely responses. I got sucked in for half an hour looking at M.C. Escher pictures and I can fully agree that this is Holby. Each staircase leads to a ward and each door leads to a pit of emotional story lines.

They finish with the surgeries. They performed four back to back, with more set up for the next shift change. She is impressed with the way Bernie works, cannot fathom why anyone would stick her down in ED doing general roles. She’s an artist, even if the canvas is a set of inverted bowels.

The atmosphere is musty, sweat lingering in the air. The staff are jaded and her shift has long since been over. Bloody rags litter the floor and the ward staff are doing the best they can to catch up on the mess. All the ward beds are full and an extra six are displaced throughout the space.

Serena is just finishing a post-op checkup when Fletch trots up to her.

“Just got off the phone with ED, they’re just clearing up the crash site. They’re wondering if we can take on anymore injured.”

“How many would that be?” She warily asks.

“They said about six.” He answers.

“Oh, no. We cannot take on that many. We’re already full to the brim.”

Fletch is about to make his way back to the phone when Bernie jogs over.

She interjects, “I think we can. I’m sure we can find a way to make room.”

“Where exactly? If you haven’t noticed all the free space this tiny ward has, is occupied.” Serena’s getting annoyed, she’s been running non-stop, and the adrenaline in her system is winding it’s way down right into a headache.

“What’s the alternative? ED’s got their hands full with walk-ins, and sending them to St. Austen’s or St. James just isn’t sensible.”

“Bernie we have to follow protocol, we haven’t the equipment to treat more patients, putting more beds in here runs the risk of a fire hazard plus more problems on a long line of ethical lists.”

She thinks that’ll be the end of it but Bernie keeps pushing on. “I honestly think it’s doable, in the field we could handle much mor—“

“But we aren’t in the field Bernie." She cuts in, "We’re on AAU, far away from the army. So Fletch, please tell them we can’t take on anymore.” She’s close to breaking her composure, if any junior had done this, at this time, she would have had their head.

Fletch says his thanks and heads off. She watches Bernie trudge away. She should leave it at that, but her anger leads her on.

“What are you trying to prove?” She says too loudly.

Bernie turns around and answers, “What? Nothing.”

Serena lowers her voice trying to reason with Bernie. “Look, there’s viable alternatives, not everything needs to be so gung-ho.”

“I’m just trying to do right by the patients.” Bernie quietly responds.

She feels a pang of hurt at that. “What, and I’m not?” She walks away from Bernie before she says anything else spiteful. Bernie has been here one day and she already thinks Serena’s job is not up to her standards.

She finishes her rounds of post-ops, all the while trying not to look through the crowd to search for Bernie. After she’s done with the last patient she plops down in her office chair. She lies back and tells herself that she’ll just rest her eyes for a bit.

She manages to get 20 seconds in before a knock resonates throughout the room. She lets out a sigh.

“Come in.” She calls out without opening her eyes. She hears the door open and then close, at that she opens her eyes to see Bernie standing there. A bit irked, she gives Bernie an expectant look.

“Look Serena, about before,” Bernie looks at the ground as she talks, fringe covering her eyes. “I’m not trying to undermine you Serena, or saying you don’t look after your patients. I guess after so many years in the army, you start to think you’re above risks. I shouldn’t have done that here.”

“Bernie, you probably wouldn’t believe me, but I hate mess, and I hate chaos.” Bernie looks up at her. “Yes, I know. Why they would stick me down here, and keep me here nonetheless, one could only imagine. Well, apparently I thrive in it. From the looks of it, you do brilliantly as well. If what you did out there could happen every time an accident happened, I would kiss you.”

She sees Bernie blush but thinks nothing of it, puts it down to exhaustion. She continues.

“That being said, this is the NHS, and the NHS has rules and it has standards. There’s a fine line between full capacity and getting sued because someone’s been forgotten in the corner.” She softens her look, lets out a huff, “I bet nothing like this has happened in the ED since you’ve been here?”

“You can say that again.” Bernie sits herself down on the side of the desk, faces Serena. “Even if it did I probably wouldn’t be a part of it. Connie puts me on general tasks. I go into theatre maybe once a week.”

“No! That’s a crime.” Serena exclaims. “I’d say you’re one of the best trauma surgeons in England.”

“I would say that too. But Connie hears ‘hand injury’ and doesn’t put any trust in me, even after 8 months.” Bernie pouts. “Today has been exhausting, but exhilarating too Serena, thank you.”

Bernie takes up Serena’s hand and rubs her thumb over the back of it, seemingly lost in thought. Before Serena can register the action the feelings gone and Bernie walks towards the door.

“If you’ve wrapped up here Serena, can I still offer you the ride home?” Serena feels herself nod. “Good. Say half two? I’ll swing by and we can go?” She nods again and Bernie leaves with a smile.

*****

Bernie loves to drive at night. Especially in the dead of night when the air is cool and silent, with no cars on the streets aside from cabbies. Her little convertible is a thrill to burn the streets in, but tonight – or rather early morning – she takes it easy, knows Serena was going to hurl on the way to work from the way she drove earlier.

The quiet between them is relaxed. She peers over to see Serena looking out the window, watching the lights of the night pass by. She contemplates speaking, likes talking to Serena and to be honest with herself, doesn’t exactly know the next time they will talk again. She tries to think about something to talk about, but ends up just glancing between Serena and the road.

Serena, illuminated by this light, is alluring. The stress of the day is dwindling from the lines of her face, in its place lies the soft glow of the street lamps. Bernie wishes she could pull over and study her, no words spoken. If she were an artist she would draw Serena in this moment. _I’m getting sentimental, I can neither draw nor get Serena’s permission even if I could._

The silence is broken by Serena's low voice, “Did you know I was head girl at my school?” Bernie says nothing, expecting Serena to go on. “I was lousy at speeches before being appointed. I was told that I would have to do a lot of public speaking if I were to be head girl. And everyone knows you don’t just turn down the role.”

Serena pauses, sucks in a breath.

“Whenever I had to do a speech I would practice relentlessly. Spoke in front of mirrors, in front of friends, even my mother at times.” She chuckles. “I got so good at speeches that whenever there was a school wide event I would be the speaker. I’d smile, make jokes, the works and all. I learned how to hide the fear under a façade…. people said I was too serious. They didn’t know that I dreaded each time I had to go up on stage.”

“Oh, Serena…”

“They’d call me ‘Menacing McKinnie’,” She lets out a disdainful laugh. “All the lower years would avoid me like the plague, and I guess I deserved it. I got rid of this frail young girl and replaced her with… me, and I never went back.”

Bernie pulls off the motorway, steers the car onto the abandoned roads before speaking. “You are far from menacing Serena.” From the corner of her eye she sees Serena give her an unconvinced look. “Honest.”

She places her hand over her chest -- over that grease stain Serena kept staring at before – tries to make Serena believe her.

“People may see you as…high strung, but I think you’re one of the nicest people at Holby.”

She hears a scoff coming from beside her. “Bernie, thank you for trying to make me feel better, but nice isn’t a word I’d associate with myself.”

“Serena, you can self-loathe all you want, it’s gone—“ Bernie glances at the clock on the dash. “3am, and I’m not kidding when I say I would listen to you ‘till the sun comes up. But I also wasn’t lying when I said you are nice, you are.”

They pull up in front of Serena’s house, all dark except for a dim porch light. It shines into the car illuminating the small interior. Bernie turns toward Serena, knows her face is a shadow as she blocks out the light. She lays her hand palm up on the console, a subtle invitation.

Serena glances down at it before placing her hand on top, giving it a squeeze.

“I’m not saying this just because Serena. You’re friendly and warm, at work and outside of work. You run a ward, in the NHS nonetheless, you’ve got to be tough. You’re also a woman in a mainly male-run position. And from what I’ve heard, you’re staff adore you and respect you, which is hard to come by.”

The woman in front of her is about to speak when Bernie raises a hand. “No, you don’t have to say anything. I just know that I would’ve loved someone to reassure me years ago, maybe even when Marcus and I were fighting…. it’s good to talk to someone.”

She pats Serena’s hand with her free one.

“So how about we have coffee tomorrow, or I guess later today. You do have it off right? We can spill our hearts out to each, no strings attached.”

“Maybe Shiraz would be better for that conversation.” Serena’s face pulls into a smile. “I could do with a glass and a chat.”

Bernie breaks into a smile, “it’s a date.”

*****


	6. Sharing is Caring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the chapter xx

_It’s a date_. _Her words not mine_.

Serena’s been in bed for 12 hours, 10 of which have been spent asleep. The other half…..

_Surely people say that on a regular basis, she was tired._

The clock beside the bed says it’s past 4pm, groaning Serena rolls out bed.

_Of course it’s a date, friends go on dates all the time._

As she comes out of the washroom her phone pings twice.

_Your place or mine? B x_

_For drinks of course or coffee, and a chat. B x_

She is keen, Serena thinks. Never had someone that keen to spend time with her, not since Robbie. But that was for another activity…

_Let’s do mine, more Shiraz here. 6:30. S x_

She texts out quickly, throwing the phone on the bed before waiting for the response. She sets out on getting herself and the house ready. She prepares some hor d'oeuvres, recipes she’s picked up from her travels to the States. Sets out two glasses for wine, one of which has already been filled and drained.

A knock sounds on the door just as she’s pulling the last snacks out of the oven.

When she opens the door, a drenched Bernie greets her, holding a bottle of wine of her own.

“Why on earth would you walk here?” Serena chastises. Bernie just smiles and shrugs off her raincoat.

Serena leads her to the kitchen where the plates and glasses are set. “I was informed there’d be a healthy amount of wine here tonight, wouldn’t want me to drive home after that would you?”

“You could just stay here.” Serena blurts out. “That is, we’ve got a spare room. Well, Jason is using the spare room but you can stay in Elinor’s room.”

“Oh yes, Jason?” 

“He won’t be home until later, I texted that you were coming over. He’ll have had his dinner already, probably will just pop up to bed when he gets in.” She’s explaining too much and takes a gulp of wine.

They settle on the couch with a bottle, glasses, and plates filled with food. Bernie in black leggings and a dark green jumper takes in the sitting room. A large bay window fills the far wall with a comfortable ledge for sitting. Pictures of Elinor and Jason line the fireplace mantle, a bookshelf stuffed with unread books and medical journals hides in the corner.

The cushions that adorn the couch scream elegance but if anyone asked, she got them on sale.

The food is eaten in silence; Bernie guzzles it down as if she hasn’t eaten for days. Serena picks at her bacon-wrapped wiener, twisting it around with the toothpick that pierces it.

“Whatever I said in the car, I hope it will stay between us.”

Bernie’s eyes are wide with shock, her cheeks puffed out as she chews. She mumbles out, “no Serena, I wouldn’t do that. No one to really talk to anyways.” She offers a smile to reassure her but Serena still feels out of place.

“Okay,” she lays back on the couch looking up to the ceiling. “I guess we can be each other’s confidant.”

Bernie places her empty plate on the coffee table, “I like the sound of that. If that's the case, tell me more about Jason.” Bernie has her elbow up on the back of the couch, her body facing towards her. _It looks like she’s done this before._

She starts in on the story about Jason. How she only found out about him after her anonymous sister died. How he has Asperger’s but that it doesn’t stop him from doing the things he loves. Smart as a whip and as observant as Sherlock. How she’s glad that she has him, feels as if he fills a piece in her puzzle.

Bernie makes no comments while she speaks, just edges on more questions when she’s done her rants. They get through Edward and Elinor, how she had to deal with Spence when she came to AAU, her time at Harvard, how the weather is much nicer in the States.

She can hear herself go on and on but she makes no attempt to stop, it just spills out of her babbling mouth. They go through a whole bottle of wine before she finally stops.

She slaps her forehead, “dear god I sound like a drunken fool.”

“By the sound of it, you need to let it out.” Bernie swirls her wine glass. “Ever try screaming on a roof?”

“What?”

“Screaming on a roof? All med students know about that old trick. Holby would be great for that.”

“I-I think I’ve heard of F1’s doing that, yes.” Serena stammers.

“Would you like more?” Bernie holds up the wine bottle. Serena shakes her head, her vision blurs as she does so. Bernie pours more for herself.

“No, but how ‘bout you take a turn, hmm?”

“Alright. What would you like to know?” Bernie grabs a pillow and rests it on her lap laying her interlocked hands on it.

Serena tells herself not to ask it, but she does anyway. “I’m curious about Marcus. Now I won’t lie and say I know nothing about him, because really, I’ve met him already.”

The blonde gapes at her, face contorting between shock and dismay. “Marcus can be…”

“Harsh?” Serena inquires, watching Bernie’s thought process as she finds the right words.

“Yes, but he has a right to be I suppose, I uh.” She gets up and starts to pace in front of the fireplace, wine glass in hand. Going from the bookshelf to the fireplace to the window, and back again. “I was rubbish, utter rubbish. Still am if you ask him.”

She lets out a dry laugh, pointing at Serena with the hand holding her glass.

“Some first question Campbell, out of all the ones you could ask.”

“Bernie, sit down, you’re making my head spin.” Serena insists. After a moment Bernie does what she says, plopping down on the couch with more distance between them than before. She goes quiet, not meeting Serena’s gaze.

Serena rolls her eyes. _This woman can go from an iron bar to a brittle bone in less than 60 seconds._

“I know you’re curious about what he said, who wouldn’t be. If you were to ever talk to Edward, I bloody well would like to defend myself from his accusations.” Bernie continues to stare into her wine. “He said – his words exactly – ‘she’s free to have her sordid affairs all the bloody time now’. I’m not accusing you of anything Bernie, but since we’re both sharing, I’d like to hear your side of the story.”

She observes as Bernie goes through the phases. Blushing to alarmed to hesitant. Finally, she takes a deep breath.

*****

She hates telling people about her personal life. That’s why her and Alex worked so well. It was all passion and nothing in between. Her father was a cliché sort of man, always saying ‘if you show your true colours Berenice, the enemy will use it to paint lies on your skin’. So she never did. Not to Alex, not to Marcus, not to her children, at least not in person. She can easily rant to a picture of her family, but to stand in front of them and spill her heart out, well, let’s just say going on a yearlong tour is easier.

She likes Serena, assumes that she’s just as lonely as she is. _Sod that, I ‘really’ like Serena._

She divulges more information than she’s ever told her string of goldfish at home. She confesses about Alex, how she thought there was a type of love there, but now she knows it was merely a happenstance in the wrong place, at the wrong time. How Marcus found out about it even though Bernie was trying to make it work. How Alex left after it got too complicated with Marcus. The divorce, the awkwardness with her children, the rehab whilst moving into a new place.

“So this bloke, Alex, he ever try to get a hold of you after everything calmed down?” Serena questions.

“Oh no no, _she_ , went back to the RAMC, no correspondence from her since.”

Serena splutters, “oh you, oh.” Bernie notices something dawn on Serena’s face. Soon after a smile cracks on the brunettes face, eyes crinkling in mirth. “So that’s what Marcus meant.”

“Sorry, meant what?”

“After the pleasant conversation between dear Marcus and I, I thought I caught the work ‘lesbian’. He probably,” she lets out a howl. “He probably thought I was one of your lesbians dropping off your wallet after a night out.”

Bernie peers at her, not knowing how to take that bit of information.

“I guess I could look the part what with the short hair but god Bernie. How did you stay married to him for so long? I talked with him for 5 minutes and my cortisol levels were through the roof.”

“One of the advantages of being in another country is you don’t have to live in the same reality as your family. Marcus was nice to talk to, he was patient, and I think he knew our relationship was built on companionship and not something….more. I don’t think he was surprised when he found out I was…gay, but he was angry about an affair. I guess anyone would be.”

“At least you have some form of remorse. Now take Edward, he knew I knew and he didn’t—“ She’s saved from droning on when the front door opens.

Bernie suddenly feels anxious, she’s been comfortable sitting here, but it’s not her home.

“Hello Jason,” Serena yells out.

“Hello Auntie Serena. Allan and I had sushi after work.” He walks into the sitting room, taking in Bernie and Serena sat on the couch. “Hello Doctor Bernie.”

“Hello Jason,” she greets, smile plastered on her face.

“Jason, Bernie will be staying the night.” She looks to Bernie as if to ask if that's alright, Bernie nods. “In Elinor’s room, I hope that’s okay.”

Jason seems to contemplate it before saying, “Okay. I’m going to bed now, goodnight Auntie Serena, Doctor Bernie.” He walks out of the room but a second later he comes back in, _maybe he’s changed his mind._ “Doctor Bernie, the mugs are in the first cupboard to the left of the sink. You can use any one you like, just not mine. You should be able to spot it, it has special writing on it.”

“Oh, and what’s that?” She expects it to have some wisdom quote on it, or maybe something from a tv show.”

“It says ‘Best Nephew in the World’.” At that, he makes his way up the stairs to his room.

“I got him that.” Serena says with glee. “He said that it was unlikely he was the best nephew in the _world_ , but I persuaded him otherwise.”

“You’re good with him.”

“We need each other, it just...works.” Serena regards her for a second. “Want to watch a movie? Something cheesy and gooey all over. I think we deserve it.”

Bernie nods in agreement. “We do, bring it on.”

*****


	7. A falling out and a frog

Serena anxiously makes her way down the quiet corridor. It’s strange that a hallway can be this silent in a building that thrives on noise. A door at the end is slightly ajar, _the make it or break it room_.

Surely if the decision from the investigation was good, an email would suffice in relaying the news. _It’s not good then._

She scans the room as she enters. Hanssen is at one end of the long plain mahogany table, surrounded by the committee board members. The other end contains Connie Beauchamp and surprisingly, Bernie. _Why is she here? Oh yes, she made the complaint._

 

Bernie sleeps in late she found out. Serena thought _she_ slept in late on days off, but she was up before Bernie was. She opened the door to Elinor’s room to circulate the air on the second level, but froze upon opening it when she found Bernie asleep on her stomach. The comforter had half slid off the bed, only covering her sock-feet. Her face was turned towards the door, mouth-hanging open. _Not the prettiest sights, but…charming._ Serena had stood there staring, hand still on the doorknob, that is, until Bernie started to open her eyes. Serena swiftly closed the door and re-entered to make it seem as so she wasn't just watching her friend sleep. She muttered a 'morning' before opening the curtains and window, no sign from Bernie showing that she had seen Serena standing there.

They had breakfast/lunch at 11am, well, brunch if you’re being linguistically correct. Like the night before Bernie wolfed down the food Serena put in front of her, smiling all the while.

They decided to spend the day together. It was Saturday after all. They lounged around the house, played scrabble with Jason, losing of course, and walked to the park and back. By late afternoon Serena’s stomach hurt from all the laughing she had done. Every time Bernie let out a honk, it made Serena laugh all the more.

Bernie declined staying over for another night, even though Serena insisted, a little too eagerly. Bernie wanted to go home and shower, had to pick up some groceries. Serena was disheartened to her Bernie’s answer, but then Bernie offered lunch the next day.

And lunch they had. After a failed attempt to cook at her terrace, Bernie had brought over takeaway. Had sulked that she’s rubbish at cooking, but anytime Serena wanted marble cake, just call Bernie.

Once Monday came they both went back to their respected jobs, Bernie had drove her to and from work as the repairman worked on her car all day. They never crossed paths during their shift, breaks never lining up and both wards too far away for a casual visit. They caught each other up during their ride home, but once Serena got out of Bernie’s little car that night, they hadn’t seen or talked in person until now, a week later.

 

And now seeing Bernie sitting there in her awful coloured scrubs it makes her smile. Bernie returns the smile with a goofy one of her own. She sees Ms. Beauchamp scowl at her from the corner of her eye. She quickly takes a seat on the other side of Connie.

“Okay, now that everyone’s here, let’s begin.” Hanssen starts. “Given the data collected during the last week or so the board and I have come to a decision.”

“Hopefully sack Ms. Wolfe here,” Connie whispers to Serena.

“Along with creating an out-patient program for the geriatrics unit, specifically for pneumonia and UTI’s, we are moving one of you to another ward.”

“What!” Connie bellows out.

Hanssen raises a hand to silence her. “It’s neither you Ms. Beauchamp or Ms. Campbell.”

All eyes turn to a slack-jawed Bernie. “You’re moving me? To where?” Bernie asks incredulously.

“To AAU. The board is setting up a fund towards a trauma unit on AAU, a unit which we would like you to lead Ms. Wolfe.”

Serena looks over to Connie whose eyebrows are hitting her hairline. She smiles at that.

“What you did on the day of the RTC was very impressive Ms. Wolfe. We think a trauma unit will be very effective for this hospital.” He looks between Bernie and her. “Now Ms. Campbell, this would mean that you and Ms. Wolfe will co-lead AAU during the transition period, until the trauma unit can be set up. This won’t be a problem will it?” He queries, a knowing smirk spreading on his face.

The room goes very quiet at the question. She understands now why this meeting was held, and why Bernie was here. Maybe it was to show Ms. Beauchamp that Bernie had real skill, and needed to put it to good use. _Maybe Hanssen is just as petty as the rest of us._

*****

Bernie is sweating. She wished she knew this was going to be thrown at her. Co-lead? With Serena? Serena was just telling her a week ago how much she had to fight to show she could run a ward independently. _Does she think I made this happen too?_ She’d say no. But then, how can she go back to the ED under Beauchamp? And Serena? She’ll be mad at her, just as they’re starting a friendship.

Serena’s modulated voice breaks her train of thought, “Of course not Henrik, I think it’s a grand idea.” Bernie leans forward in her chair and stares, past Connie, towards her friend; Serena gives her a wink before addressing Hanssen again. “Ms. Wolfe is the best trauma surgeon I’ve ever seen. Stuck being a registrar in ED doing mundane tasks is starving the hospital of an incredible asset.”

Serena beams at Ms. Beauchamp’s bewildered expression and Bernie’s equally baffled look.

“That settles that then.” Hanssen proclaims. “Ms. Wolfe, your presence on AAU will begin today, I’m sure Ms. Campbell will help you get situated. Good day everyone.”

Connie Beauchamp leaves in a huff. Bernie stays sitting and Serena hangs back with her. They watch everyone else in the room dissipate until it’s just the two of them in the small room.

“Serena…how, why?” Bernie rasps out, still sitting a seat away from her.

“I may have hinted to Hanssen that your expertise is needed elsewhere. I didn’t specifically say AAU, but it’s a pleasant surprise.”

“I don’t want to impose Serena. I know you love running the ward yourself.”

“If you were a man Bernie, I’d probably be fuming. If you were another Michael Spence then… I don’t know.” She sits back and sighs. “We’re friends Bernie, I trust you. You’re good, bloody good at trauma. I’ll even learn something from you I bet, already have.” Serena turns her head, meets Bernie’s gaze and murmurs, “We’re equals.”

Bernie grins and feels warmth spread through her. She watches Serena rise out of her chair and head towards the door. The brunette nods her head to Bernie that says, ‘come on, I’ll show you around your new home’. She quickly stands and follows Serena out the door towards a new experience.

*****

Everything goes swimmingly. The best and simplest transition Serena’s ever gone through. Usually there’s butting heads, power plays and childish groaning. With Bernie, all she has to worry about is a messy office.

And by messy she means like a pack of preschoolers spent lunchtime in their office every day. She can only imagine what the office would look like if Bernie was left alone.

Funding for the trauma unit took a month to fall into place, which meant paperwork upon paperwork for Bernie and her. A month was spent building the unit, decorating it (Bernie chose a cliché red phone for the emergency calls) and staffing it. Another month in found her and Bernie running AAU and the Trauma unit as a whole, where initially Bernie was to run the trauma unit, and Serena AAU. Somewhere along the way, it all intertwined.

Bernie’s made changes, good changes. Brought in new equipment, made everything so efficient, proved herself to be more than useful. And now for the next medical conference Holby makes an appearance at, Hanssen has asked her and Bernie to lead a trauma/AAU seminar.

Which lead to their first unsettled argument.

Bernie had kept _insisting_ that they take her car and that she will drive, muttering something about ‘Serena, your car is not reliable.’ To which Serena responded with a ‘we’ll see’, before making a quick getaway so that the last word would be hers.

Aside from that, people all over the hospital are calling the AAU co-lead consultants the ‘dream team’.

At least that’s what Jason tells her.

Bernie and Jason get on like a house on fire. Bernie’s had dinner with them at least once a week since they’ve started co-leading. Sometimes after they eat, they’ll settle on the couch, watch a movie or a documentary with Jason. Other times they sip wine in silence, enjoying each other’s company.

On those quiet nights, one of them usually dozes off. If that person is Bernie, Serena sits quietly beside her, watches the fire, tries not to stare at the woman beside her. After a while either Bernie wakes herself up with a snort, or Serena nudges her awake. Gives her the option of going home or staying the night.

Bernie usually stays.

Who knows what happens when she’s the one who nods off. Although she suspects Bernie just falls asleep beside her too, because by the time she opens her eyes Bernie is snoring beside her. The fire dying out, though she swears it was blazing before she closed her eyes.

Some nights it’s all chatter. Her or Bernie will go off on a rant, the other will listen politely. Or one of them cracks a joke and they laugh until Jason comes down the stairs and asks if they’re both okay.

Their friendship is….ideal.

Until it isn’t.

Serena’s walked this ward for years. Could do it blindfolded through a rave of people. But it’s not the obstacles that get her. It’s someone’s spilt coffee.

She goes down, hard. Lands on her right side, splashing coffee all over herself. It doesn’t hurt at first, but as she starts to move she feels the throbbing.

She hears Bernie call out from the other side of the nurse’s station. What a sight that would’ve been. One second she’s walking past the desk and the next she falls like a sack of potatoes.

She sits up and watches Bernie kneel at her side as fast as she fell.

“Serena are you okay?” Bernie rasps out, touching her head to check for blood.

She looks at the concern on Bernie’s face, tries to crack a joke. “Have I told you yet how much better those trauma scrubs look on you? The ED ones are ghastly.”

“Serena you shouldn’t joke,” Bernie growls. But anger soon turns into amusement. “You could’ve broken… a hip.”

“Hey, I’m not that old,” Serena exclaims as they help each other stand. Looking like two old geezers catching their balance. She catches a wince coming from Bernie, the same contorted face Serena saw many months ago when they collected the papers from the floor. “You look worse off, Ms. Wolfe.”

She grabs Bernie’s arm, waving to the staff around them to signal she was okay. She leads Bernie to their office, shutting the blinds that look off to the hallway.

“Okay, what’s going on Bernie?” She asks as she starts to take off her wet blouse, revealing a black vest. “I’ve seen you wince like that before.” Bernie’s avoiding her gaze, most likely from embarrassment over being caught out with an injury, Serena thinks.

“It’s just old back pain. Flaring up. Hurts more when I get up from the ground.” Serena quirks an eyebrow, she pulls on a spare shirt she keeps in her bag. Bernie looks up at her after she buttons her shirt, “It’s okay now though.”

“Oh, don’t think you’re getting off that easily.” She pulls a guest chair in front of them, pats it, “Alright Wolfe sit down. Let’s have a look.”

“I should be the one checking you over,” Bernie says as she gently sits down.

Serena taps her shoulder, “yes but you’re older than me, more risk for you.”

Bernie snorts, “by a couple months, not much difference.”

Serena leans in to get a better look at where she’s placing her hands, mouth close to Bernie’s ear. “I suppose not,” she says softly. She feels Bernie stiffen beneath her hands. “Relax, I won’t be able to do much if you’re stiff,” she whispers as she starts to move her hands down Bernie’s back.

And that’s where it goes pear-shaped.

*

Their practicality around each other doesn’t differ. Their…work relationship stays the same if not a little tense. But Serena feels the distance.

It’s been a couple weeks and it feels odd whenever they’re both on AAU. The banter is gone, quick quips from her end get hung out to dry and only polite conversation remains.

It frustrates her when something is happening around her that she doesn’t understand. And that thing is Berenice Wolfe.

She tries to broach the subject, corners her in the office once or twice, but Bernie brushes her off. Tries to bring it up over a surgery but finds that personal talk in front of staff is inappropriate. She invites Bernie over for a drink, which is declined each time with a ‘too tired’. If Serena’s honest with herself, she misses her friend. She’s gotten used to having someone that genuinely wants to spend time with her. And now with that gone, she realizes just how friendless she is without Bernie.

Getting out of her car one brisk early morning, Serena spots Bernie’s quick strides across the car park. Head down, bag slung over one shoulder. It’s early summer, mornings are crisp, but by the afternoon it could very well be a swelter. Bernie is wearing a light grey jacket, hair tangled as ever.

Serena decides in that moment that she has to confront Bernie in order to get through to her. She rushes to catch Bernie in time, looking like a fool all the while, moving between a half sprint, half jog.

She grasps Bernie’s arm in surprise, earning a yelp from the blonde. Serena ignores it and drags Bernie to an alcove at the side of the hospital.

“What are you—“

“Look _Berenice,_ some kind of flip has been switched in that big brain in there,” Serena gestures to Bernie’s head. “And I’d like to know how to switch it back.”

“Serena I—“

“No, you can’t make excuses now, we’re not needed on AAU for another 20 minutes.” She looks at Bernie opening and closing her mouth. Serena huffs, “Something happened. One day we are practically bosom buddies, the next you are so _aloof_ Bernie…” She trails off feeling a pang of sadness.

“I can’t, be…” Serena patiently waits for Bernie to finish, but when she lets the sentence trail off Serena continues.

“I mean, if being friends is too much—”

“No, no it’s not that—“

“We work all day together and sometimes spend whole evenings together—“

“I like our friendship it’s just—“

“I can see how one can get tired of too much time spent together and—“

They are talking over each other, both trying to out match the other. But soon she hears Bernie nearly scream, “all my relationships fall apart, and I can’t have that happen with us.”

Serena gapes at her, falls silent.

“There’s a pattern, irrational, most likely groundless. It’s there though, and _I_ see it.” Bernie gestures to herself. “I’ve had friends. Marcus and I were friends, Alex, buddies from the RAMC. But I did some thinking, and I realized I’ve never had a _best_ friend.”

Bernie’s arms, which were flinging aimlessly, now fall to her side. “Bernie I don’t quite follow—“

“You’re my best friend Serena!” Bernie laughs out, “It sounds school-girlish, but you are my best friend.” She enunciates each word slowly. Serena sucks in a breath, reads between the lines.

“Bernie,” she lets out softly, wanting to put an assuring hand on Bernie’s arm, but thinks better of it. “Just because we’re becoming close does not mean we’re doomed to fall out. Now, I am not going to psychoanalyze you because, as you know, Freud is not my favourite.”

Bernie releases a shaky laugh, “I’d say if Freud were here he’d say you had an unhealthy obsession with him.”

Serena scowls. “Anyways… looking past that.” She shifts closer to Bernie as a group of people walk by them, giving the pair a once-over before moving on. “Like I said before, many drunken nights ago, you’re my confidant, and I’m yours.”

At that Serena gently rubs her hand over her friend’s arm, leaving it there as she speaks.

“There will always be things neither of us want to talk about, I understand that. Though, I’d like to feel that you are comfortable enough to speak to me before dropping off the radar.”

“I am. I just needed…time, space, to sort my thoughts. I was going to talk to you soon, I think. It’s all cluttered you see—“

“It’s okay Bernie,” Serena smiles warmly at the seemingly demure expression Bernie holds. She’s still so surprised at how Bernie can be confident at work, but quite reticent on a personal level. “I _understand_.” Putting emphasis on the last word to let Bernie know she doesn’t need to explain everything that goes on in her mind.

Serena squints at her wristwatch, eyebrows flying up at what it says.

“Right, we’d better get on,” she links her arm with Bernie’s and directs them around the corner towards the entrance. "Next time you plan to zip off like that, let me know beforehand.”

Bernie looks at her quizzically.

“Well, if you’re about to go off alone and sit quietly with your thoughts, I might as well bring over some Shiraz and we can sit in silence together.”

Bernie swivels her head, lop-sided grin adorning her face. They walk past Pulses. “You know I had a good analogy to compare my relationships with.”

“Oh? And what’s that.”

“The boiling frog one. Where if you put a frog in cold water and heat it gradually it will be boiled to death.” Serena looks over at Bernie’s thoughtful look. “I thought it was quite good.”

Serena furrows her eyebrows, “are we both the frog in this situation?”

Bernie’s look turns pensive, “you know what? We probably are. You know, because we’re in this together and all.”

“Quite,” Serena says plainly, “let’s just turn down the temperature then shall we? Enjoy a nice warm soak.” They grin at each other before heading into AAU. _Okay, mission accomplished. Flip switched, although this is the first time I’ve been called a frog._

*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're all frogs hopping along. But I'm a cool yellow one. 
> 
> Thanks for reading xxxxxxxxxx.


	8. The kids™ and a man named Max

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late in the day. What is it, like 6am in England? Good morning!
> 
> Fun Fact: The kids™ is what my dad says when he's talking to other people. Always The Wife™ and The Kids™ and The Dog™ (I love my dog). Never our names.   
> Okay! Here's the next chapter.

It was like clockwork when she worked in the ED. Wake up, go to work, come home, sleep, and repeat. She never went out after, never had drinks with colleagues. Her personal life was as dull as her job.

But sitting here now in the low lights of Albie’s, Serena at her side, she feels happy. She promised Serena that if she had anymore-inner dilemmas, to tell her, that they can sit in silence together until she’s ready to talk, or if she just wanted the company.

 

And she did call Serena one night. At first she thought she was fine, but she could feel herself spiraling and she needed some grounding. Earlier that day she had received confirmation from her son Cameron, that her daughter Charlotte has agreed to lunch for the following day.

Serena, who she had told right away of the plans, asked if she was going to be okay. To which Bernie gave a quick nod, even though she was overly anxious. She's not spoken to her daughter properly since before the divorce. And even before then their relationship was not a traditional mother-daughter walk in the park. It was strained.

At midnight Bernie found herself lying in bed wide-awake. 12 hours until the planned lunch. She kept rolling over, checking the time only to find that 10 minutes had passed. _Will Charlotte be angry at me? Throw her drink in my face?_

She didn’t want to wake Serena, knows that they both had a busy day on the ward, and was most likely in the middle of a REM cycle. But Bernie thought about how disappointed Serena would be if she knew how stressed Bernie had been.

She called straight away.

“Hello? Bernie?” Serena said gruffly from the other line.

“Hi Serena.” She tried to sound cheerful, but the squeak in her voice wasn’t fooling anyone, especially Serena.

“You’re thinking about tomorrow aren’t you?” Serena guessed.

“Yes,” Bernie groaned. “What if she leaves as soon as she sees me?”

“Then you let her leave, let her cool down and try to make things better the next time you meet.” Serena reassures. Bernie was full of other theoretical disaster situations, wanted to ask Serena all of them. But it was late and she couldn’t bother Serena with all that. She was going to say goodbye and hang up when Serena said, “come over.”

And Bernie did, jogged slowly all the way to Serena’s house, almost wept at how beautiful the night was.

They had talked on the back patio, didn’t want to wake Jason with their talking. Serena soothed Bernie’s worries bit by bit, ‘no she won’t hate you forever’, ‘no she won’t kick you’, ‘she may cry, but that doesn't mean the end of things,’ ‘yes I can come if you want’.

Bernie was surprised that Serena had agreed to come, but they decided that she won’t join them at the table, just sit near it.

She had a moderate sleep after that, in Serena’s house. Had woken up to the sound of Serena laying coffee down on the bedside table. They had sat on the bed together, talking over their plans. Serena will sit a booth or two behind Bernie, Charlotte and Cameron, at the ready to give a reassuring look if Bernie needed it.

 

For the most part everything went fine. Charlotte was reserved at first but eventually opened up and talked about her own worries. Said how upset she was over the divorce but came to accept it. She could see how distant Bernie and Marcus had become in the last couple of years. Said as long as she’s happy now, Charlotte is okay with it. Cameron was there to fill in with his jokes when the silences stretched.

For the most part everything _did_ go fine, with her kids.

She didn’t factor in though, that Serena would be the cause of her unease by the end of lunch.

They started out facing each other, two booths between them. Then Cameron and Charlotte sat across from her, but Bernie could still see Serena between the two of them.

But just as Bernie was putting a forkful of salad into her mouth, a man walked up to Serena’s table. She greeted him with a smile, offering him the seat across from her blocking Bernie's view of Serena. They chatted animatedly. Well, that’s what Bernie thought they were doing, she couldn’t see Serena’s face, just saw her hands gesticulating.

She tried to focus on her food and her kids, she really did, but _who was that man?_ Obviously, they knew each other, Bernie couldn’t hear what they were saying, could hear sporadic bouts of laughter, but that was it.

By the time they were finished lunch, Bernie had received a text from Serena saying ‘ _don’t wait up for me’._

They had come in separate cars so that wasn’t a problem, the problem _was_ that Serena offered no explanation. The problem _was_ that Serena cancelled their evening plans with a simple ‘ _sorry, something came up. Talk to you tomorrow.’_ The problem _was_ that when she saw Serena the next day the brunette was glowing and it did Bernie’s head in.

She tentatively spoke about the lunch, tried to sneak in questions about the man sitting with Serena.

Serena never took the bait, just stated he was a ‘friend from a long time ago’, who happened to be in the same diner as them.

Serena never said anything more on the subject and Bernie didn’t have the nerve to ask.

 

And now she’s sitting in Albie’s, thigh pressed against Serena’s, feeling happy and trying to forget about her underlying jealousy. Everyone around them is talking about the big conference happening that weekend. That since it’s happening by the sea, they could always nick off to the beach if there’s a dull seminar happening.

Serena is quietly talking to her about how they should try to do that, head close to hers, when she stops mid-sentence, looking over Bernie’s shoulder.

Bernie follows her gaze to see that the man from the diner has just walked in.

“Excuse me,” Serena says to her and the group before making her way over to him. They talk at the door for a bit before the man leads Serena outside. Serena throws an apologetic look to Bernie before exiting.

Something inside Bernie burns and she takes a long swig of wine, finding that her breaths are becoming shallow. She hears someone say her name.

“Hmm?” She mumbles.

It was Sacha, “I was just asking how yours and Serena’s seminar is coming on?”

“Oh, it’s good,” she’s distracted, keeps looking over at the door to see if Serena will come back. “We’re ready for it,” she finishes.

She looks at her watch, a quarter of an hour has gone by and no Serena. She taps her foot anxiously, checks her phone, no text either. _That’s good isn’t it? If she wasn’t coming back she’d text._

Another 5 minutes go by and she feels a headache starting to begin. She decides to leave, will text Serena in the car to tell her she’s leaving. Serena will have to find her own way home. _That won’t be a problem though._ She thinks bitterly.

She says her goodbyes to everyone and exits Albie’s, leaves the blur of noise and low music. She stops outside the door and takes a deep breath, blinks back the wetness on her lashes brought on by the cool wind.

There’s no sign of her friend in the darkness and she lets the disappointment sink in. Although when she thinks on it, she would prefer to be kept in the dark about Serena's relationships, rather than accidentally stumbling upon her friend snogging a man outside a pub. Bernie shakes her head at the unwanted thought and starts to walk.

As she rounds the corner of the building, heading to the car park, she hears muffled voices.

“I can’t help you, you’ll have to ask someone else.”

“There is no one else!”

“It’s not in my right, I don’t have the authority.”

It’s Serena’s voice, and a man’s voice.  Bernie turns the corner and stops when she sees Serena standing up from a picnic table. Papers spread across the top of it. The man also quickly stands and Bernie properly looks at him. He is tall and stocky, older than she was by a decade at least. There was a weariness set about him, as if he hasn’t slept for days.

“You have to do something Serena! You’re the only one I could find.” He gathers the papers from the table, stuffing them into a folder.

“I work for the NHS Max, not some prestigious private clinic, _I don’t have the authority_.” Serena repeats.

Serena takes a few steps in her direction, not having spotted her yet. Max cuts her off, towers himself in front of Serena. “Talk to your boss or whoever can do this, she’ll _die_ if she doesn’t get this.”

Serena tries to pass him but he keeps blocking her, ”Max, enough. I’ve told you I can’t help. Just let me by.” Her voice is a mix of frustration and an uneasiness that makes Bernie take a step forward.

“No! You’re going to help me!” He’s on the verge of tears, Bernie can hear it. She doesn’t like when fear and anger mingles together, it always ends badly.

“Max….” Serena pleads.

Bernie watches as Max’s shoulders slump in defeat, tears probably running down his face. She sees Serena’s hand rest on Max’s arm as she moves past him.

Suddenly Max grabs the hand on his arm and yanks it until Serena is in front of him again. Serena lets out a noise of surprise and soon she’s being pushed backwards until Max pins her to the picnic table. Practically on top of here.

“No! You have to listen!” He shouts at Serena.

Bernie drops her bag and moves as fast as she can. She reaches the pair and roughly grabs Max’s shoulders, jerks him backwards as hard as possible. He’s a big man and it takes her whole body to pull him off of Serena.

He pushes Bernie off, hits her in the chest. She makes contact with Serena’s wide eyes as she stumbles back from the blow.

“Mind your own business!” Max yells at her. He turns back to Serena, grabbing her arm again, starts to walk to a new area. Bernie is on him again, grabbing his shoulder again to force him to turn around.

Off balance, he pivots towards her. As soon as he’s facing Bernie she hits him straight on the nose, causing a shout of pain.

He lets go of Serena’s arm to cover his nose with both hands, blood now pouring out of it. Serena instantly goes to Bernie’s side, standing close to her. “Max, I’m sorry. I wish I _could_ do something.”

He glares at both of them. “No Serena, I think you’ve done enough,” he says nasally. He sits back down at the table, fingers pinching his nose. He looks up at them still standing there, “just go.”

Bernie looks towards Serena, who has an ‘I don’t know what to do’ expression. She walks back to her bag, pulls some tissues out of it and passes them to Max, knowing that his turbulent behaviour stems from something neither she nor Serena can fix.

She leads Serena towards her car, opens the passenger door for Serena to get in. Before Serena sits down, she stares at Bernie, whispers a ‘thank you’, to which Bernie returns with a taut smile.

Well, _that was bloody awful_.

*****

Serena was too upset to go home alone. She told Bernie that Max had found her at the diner, ‘not by accident’, and began to plead her into performing a medical procedure on his wife that is borderline illegal. He found her again at Albie’s to try to convince her, he just wouldn’t take no for an answer.

She was sad that she couldn’t help, partly sad that Max had gotten violent.

Her and Bernie sat up on her sitting room couch until she saw Bernie’s eyes begin to droop. She felt selfish for keeping Bernie up for so long when they have a shift in the morning. They retired to bed shortly after.

But Serena finds herself lying flat on her back, staring up at the dark ceiling. Still feeling a wave of emotions. She gets up, tells herself that she’s just going to get something to eat, but her subconscious leads her to Bernie’s room. _Ellie’s room, not Bernie’s,_ she corrects herself.

As she creaks open the bedroom door she hears Bernie faintly snoring. She can make out her form on the far side of the queen-sized bed. She slowly approaches the bed.

_Should I?_

She does.

She lifts the comforter up and slides in next to Bernie, who is facing away from her.

“What? Ugh,” Bernie gargles out, turning towards Serena. “S’rena?”

“Shhh, I just need some silent company,” she whispers to Bernie.

“S’okay,” Bernie mumbles before promptly snoring again. Serena, facing Bernie, tries to make out the lines of Bernie’s face but it’s too dark. Wants to smooth away the strands of hair that rustle on every exhale, but thinks that would just startle her. She decides to just listen to the quiet snores and the creaking of the old house.

She matches the pace of breaths coming from Bernie and soon feels herself drifting off.

*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided that Max's wife's name is Ruby and they are cute happy rabbits in another universe. Who are not brother and sister......   
> Anyways, it's late and this one sided conversation with myself about rabbits reminded me that Watership Down is coming to Netflix this year and who doesn't love a political story starring bunnies! Read the book if you want to have some Fun™.


	9. thriving underpressure

The alarm goes off too early. It jolts her awake like it usually does each morning. She hears a laugh coming from beside her. A body under the covers.

“Is that how you wake up every morning? Can’t be too good for your heart dear.” She breathes out when she hears it’s Serena. _Of course it’s her, who else would it be?_

She lays her head back down on the pillow, groaning. “I used to be so good at mornings, now all I want to do is sleep in.” Serena’s head pops out, strands of hair sticking up in all directions.

Serena, glint in her eye, props her head up with her elbow. “That doesn’t sound half bad.”

Bernie feigns shock, “Serena Campbell skiving off work.” A cheeky smile forms, “I always knew there was an impish side to you.”

Serena gives her a wide smile, “just think, we can go to the conference a day early, spend the day by the sea.”

“Get there before the weekend crowds come,” Bernie adds thoughtfully.

Serena scoots forward enthusiastically. “Exactly, we can make a picnic out of it, shiraz and all.”

“That does sound nice,” Bernie says, entranced by the image of Serena by the sea.

Serena starts to excitedly get out of the bed, voicing her ideas for the day, but a name being called in the hallway interrupts Serena’s spiel.

“Auntie Serena! Are you in there?” Jason’s voice can be heard through the door. “Doctor Bernie? Are _you_ in there? Both of you should have been up 10 minutes ago.”

Serena lets out a good-natured sigh, opening the door to see Jason standing there, dressed in his porter uniform. “Jason, we’re up. But thank you for looking in on us.”

He looks past Serena to peer at Bernie. “Good morning Doctor Bernie.” Shifting his gaze back to Serena, “your door was open at 3:30am Auntie Serena, which is uncommon. Are you alright?”

Bernie can’t see Serena’s expression, but she can hear the smile in her voice. “Yes Jason, I’m fine. Bernie and I were just having a little girls’ night.”

Confusion flickers across his face, “but you have those all the time and you never go to each other’s room after.”

“Yes well, Jason, you see I was a bit upset last night so I popped in to see Bernie and ended up falling asleep.”

“Oh, okay.” He blinks in skepticism. “You’re not….ill are you?”

Serena rubs his arm reassuringly, “no love.”

“Alright. We need to leave for work in half an hour.” He leaves in the direction of the stairs.

Serena turns back to Bernie, plaid pajamas rustling as she walks towards the bed. She pouts. “I guess our little fantasy will have to wait for another day.”

Serena fidgets with her side of the duvet, shuffling it to make it smoother despite Bernie still sat in bed. “It was short notice anyways Serena.” Bernie tries to assuage the sense of disappointment that they are both feeling. “We’ll still be able to spend some time by the beach this weekend.”

She untangles herself from the covers and matches Serena’s actions on the other side. Once the bed’s made she heads towards the closet to sort out her clothes for the day. Serena grasps her arm before she can get there.

Shoulder to shoulder they both turn their heads to each other. Bernie studies the hopeful expression Serena sports. “Bernie,” she says slowly, staring into her eyes. “Promise me we’ll have that day by the sea. Where we don’t have to think about work, or seminars, or anything. Just us.”

Bernie feels her throat catch, wants to sob at the innocence of her plea. They’re so close, can feel Serena’s breath on her cheek. She wants to envelop Serena, protect her like you would a child, whisk her away and give her everything. She wants to be braver, for Serena, to be able to express her feelings outwardly and thoroughly, she’s trying.

“I promise,” she eventually says. _I’ll try not to let you down Serena._

*****

“Alright everyone!” Serena announces to gather the ward’s attention. “I want a good, tranquil day. As you know Bernie and I will be at the medical conference tomorrow so we won’t be in.”

After a lousy night and a maudlin morning, Serena just wants a _serene_ day. Making Bernie promise her that they would take a trip to the sea one day – an offer that came out of the depths of some part of her heart – was…odd. Not in the actual offer, but in the way she spoke, in the way Bernie looked at her as if….

She just wants to get away from Holby, away from Wyvern for a while. Even if she has to conduct a seminar. Things are tender at the moment, what with Max, and with waking in the middle of the night to find her forehead pressed into the crook of Bernie’s neck.

_Ahem_.

She needs a nice distraction from the confusion she’s feeling, but not in the form of a hectic day, something along the lines of room service.

“It would be a most pleasant parting gift if,” she points to the phone at the nurse’s station, “that ghastly coloured phone, and highly cliché mind you, didn’t make a peep until we are out of those doors tonight.”

“Aye, aye,” Bernie calls out from across the ward, Serena looks at her and smiles. She signals for everyone to carry on.

Maybe all the distraction she needs is a long road trip to the Brighton Medical Conference with a certain trauma surgeon.

*

It’s half one and not even an incidence of a coffee spill has occurred. Serena is glowing, another half of her shift to go through and she’s done.

She approaches the nurse’s station. Bernie is sat in front of a computer, diligently reading it.

“Care to pop down to Pulse’s with me?” Serena asks.

Bernie glances up at the question, she nods before saying, “just give me a minute.” Turns her attention back to the screen.

Serena leans against the desk as she waits, watching the ward. Hardly any referrals from ED, minimal elective surgeries, no emergencies and everyone’s spirits seem to be up. A day given to them from some God of Luck.

“So, Ms. Campbell,” Morven begins, walking up to her. “Are you excited for the conference this weekend?”

Serena smirks at the choice of words, “oh, I’m _terribly_ excited Morven. Stuffy boardrooms, audiences filled with stern faced people, and my favourite, men in suits who assume they know that much more than you.” She holds up her pinched index finger and thumb to demonstrate.

Morven, who’s gleaming expression has now shifted to crestfallen replies with, “well with it being in Brighton I thought you’d have a nice weekend.”

“Oh Morven, I’m sure we will.” She puts on a cheerful face, “anyways, I think I’m looking forward to the trip there, where _I’ll_ be driving.” She directs the last point at Bernie.

“Not a chance Campbell.” Bernie retorts without looking away from the screen.

She overtly rolls her eyes, more for Morven than Bernie, who’s currently not looking her way anyways.

Returned to her cheery self, Morven starts listing activates they _can_ look forward to on her fingers. “You’ve got the beach, first and foremost. Classy hotel, room service, nice restaurants, that formal dinner that Sacha was talking about, Oh! Maybe there’ll be dancing.”

“What?” Her and Bernie remark at the same time. Bernie’s now staring open-mouthed at Morven, who in return is looking between the two.

“Yeah! Sacha said something about a dinner. With candles and centre pieces and all that.” Morven shakes her shoulders enthusiastically, “those things usually have dancing right?”

“Uh-huh,” Bernie mutters, she stands up quickly and rounds the desk. “Let’s go,” she says as she passes Serena, not looking back to see if Serena follows her.

“Yes, Major!” She does a mock solute, winks at Morven as she makes her way to the doors leading out of the ward.

Just as Bernie is pressing the buzzer to unlock the doors, a familiar shrill fills the air. Bernie pauses with her hand on the door, looks back at Serena.

“Oh for god’s sake,” Serena blurts out. She sees Morven answer the red phone, listening intently to the trauma case.

Morven hangs up the phone and calls out, “bus crash. Five casualties at the scene, could be up to 10 injured. ETA 20 minutes.”

She looks to Bernie who’s now standing beside her, “okay Major, time to work your magic.”

Bernie changes her expression to stony and determined, calling out to the staff on the ward to prepare for a trauma. Set up theatre, clear the beds, make sure the necessary equipment is ready and available.

Even though Serena didn’t want this to happen she can’t help but feel inspired and a little excited to watch Bernie work through a large trauma case again. They haven’t had one since that first time Bernie came to the ward. Only individual cases have come through the ward since then.

Serena heads to the locker room, readies for the mayhem.

*

Apparently, an average of 25,000 bus collisions happen every year, in the UK alone. One death every three weeks occurs from these crashes.

Right now they’re up to 9 weeks’ worth of crashes. One patient arrested as they were being wheeled into the ward, one suffered a subdural hematoma, bled right into the brain tissue, never regained consciousness. The last one (hopefully the last) had an irreversible hemorrhage and lost too much blood. Went into hypovolemic shock, the heart just didn’t have anything left to pump around in the young man’s body.

Six more patients come through AAU’s doors, the last ones they’re told. Two need immediate surgery and Serena quickly heads into theatre, Bernie following shortly after she’s dealt with the triage of the others.

As Serena inspects the glass shard penetrating from the neck, suspecting that it’s nicked the jugular vein – if the amount of blood leaking out can be an indicator – Bernie walks in and gets started on the suspected ruptured spleen.

They hardly talk during these tense emergency surgeries, simple grunts or nods suffice for communication. Serena likes it like that, although they’re both stressed and sufficiently distracted with their own work, they are still able to understand each other.

The first surgery is touch-and-go, the patient is finally stabilized and sent up to ITU. The second one is longer, but more routine: perforated bowel caused by shards of glass. They end up having to remove part of the intestine and put a colostomy in.

Imagine waking up in a hospital bed, when the last thing you remember is taking a bus to see friends, and being told you now have a bag in you. _Not the best news for a Thursday_.

They do one more surgery, less severe, to repair a torn ligament and bone fracture. The rest of the patients are either referred to other wards or treated non-surgically on AAU.

It’s late by the time the nights denouement comes, but not as late as it could’ve been without Bernie. Serena is gathering her things in their office when Bernie comes in looking rather chipper despite what they just did for the past couple hours.

“I bet you’re going to say how that was more exciting than the conference will be,” Serena chuckles.

“I wouldn’t dare,” Bernie says, lilt to her voice. They both pack their bags, “has Jason gone home yet?”

Serena checks her phone, squinting at it, “no.” She drawls out, reading the text, “ ‘Auntie Serena, I will be waiting in Pulses until you are done. Fletch told me it won’t be too long. I’ll be waiting.’ “

“Okay, we better get on then.” Bernie responds while moving towards the door, “you know, I think this afternoon went smoother than any individual cases we’ve received.”

“It went _very_ well,” something she’s grateful for after the troubles of the past couple days.

“Well, like you said before,” Bernie says as she reaches the door, “we thrive in it.” Serena stills, that word jogging her memory, something she said many months ago. A blush runs up her neck and she fights the urge to ask why Bernie would bring that up. But looking at her friend, now reaching out to open the door nonchalantly, she knows Bernie doesn’t remember, doesn’t feel the same flush of heat as Serena does. For a moment Serena watches in slow motion, can hear the sounds of the ward fade out to the single click of the latch opening in the door.

“Bernie wait,” she says quickly, halting Bernie’s hand on door handle. She turns to look at Serena expectantly, but Serena didn’t think this through properly. She stumbles on her words, “I haven’t thanked you for doing your trauma….thing. You know, organizing, setting everyone straight.”

“No need Serena,” Bernie says shyly, ducts her head into her chest.

“You see,” Serena starts when she regains her composure. She moves closer to Bernie until they’re a foot or two apart. “I once told you that if you handled another trauma case very effectively, I would uh… thank you properly.”

Bernie looks confused and Serena feels her nerve start to ebb, maybe her exhaustion is getting the better of her. She’s about to give it up when she notices a flash of something in Bernie’s expression, a touch of pink tinges her cheeks in what Serena hopes is recognition. Soon she hears Bernie say, “Serena, no, it’s fine, you don’t have to do anything. I know the ward appreciates what I do already and that’s enough for me.”

Serena shifts closer, feeling her confidence return. She’s now eye-to-eye with Bernie. “ _I_ appreciate you Bernie, much more than the ward.” She whispers, Bernie scoffs in disbelief. “ _I do_ Bernie,” she insists.

They stare at each other for a moment, standing close enough to feel each others breaths. Serena can feel her heart race, thinks that Bernie can hear it blaring out of her chest. “Serena I…“

She trails off – a common occurrence Serena finds – as Serena tilts her head, she doesn’t move closer, wants Bernie to take the first step, or not, if that’s what she wants. Bernie’s eyes flicker down to Serena’s lips.

That seems to do it because soon Bernie’s moving her head closer, looks into Serena’s eyes as her lips hovers over her own. She feels Bernie’s hand come up to cup her cheek, gently caresses it with her thumb, “Oh, Serena,” she murmurs before pressing her lips to Serena’s.

_So soft_ is the first thing Serena thinks as she feels Bernie’s lips on hers. She puts her hand on the back of Bernie’s neck as their lips move against each other. She runs her fingers through the hair found there and Bernie hums.

Serena smiles against Bernie’s lips, feels Bernie do the same. They move closer together, arms around each other in a tight embrace. Serena shifts until Bernie’s back is pressed to the door, pushing their bodies close, not caring about the busyness happening outside these walls. She teases Bernie’s lips with her tongue, licks across the bottom, and then the top.

She opens her eyes to see Bernie’s tightly shut, feels Bernie part her mouth for her. Serena, needing no encouragement, takes the offer and kisses her hard, dipping her tongue in. She hears Bernie groan and feels her hand run against her back pressing tightly to the curve of her spine.

Serena holds her hand to Bernie’s neck as the intensity simmers, light kisses shared back and forth until they part. Bernie rests her forehead against Serena’s, eyes still firmly closed.

Serena grins and moves her mouth towards Bernie’s ear, lightly biting it before saying, “thank you.”

Bernie opens her eyes at that and looks at Serena in awe, “I should be thanking you. That was...um, wow.” A nervous laugh comes from her.

She squeezes Bernie’s hand, “come on soldier, lets go home, we’ve got a fun road trip tomorrow.” She watches as the stiffness in Bernie’s posture relaxes and she follows Serena out the door.

*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Xx


	10. A cherry on top of a crumbling cake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the responses!
> 
> Let's pretend for the sake of the fic that Bernie's car is one of those you have to push the roof off instead of those fancy one's where all you have to do is push a button :)

Bernie finds that waking up early this morning isn’t so hard as other times. Today she has something to look forward to.

As she packs (an hour before they are due to leave), she can’t help but feel a range of emotions. She feels giddy, but nervous as well. It was late when they got home last night, Bernie opted out of staying over because she still had to pack. But that wasn’t the only reason, could she have slept just a room over from Serena? Would they have not slept at all and talked the whole night?

They still haven’t decided who’s going to drive and Bernie rolls her eyes at that, throwing clothes into her suitcase. Will they talk about what happened while they drive to the conference? She thinks she’d rather be the one driving if that happened.

Has Serena regretted it? She never showed signs of regret but one can only think… she thought Serena was straight. Yes, there had been moments where Serena looked at her and Bernie thought otherwise.

Neither of them have dated in the time they’ve known each other. And that could just be a coincidence, but it’s not like Serena didn’t have options. Whenever they go to bars or pubs, at least one person approaches them. Once they realize she’s not one for talking to strangers they turn to Serena who is ever so cordial.

Maybe Serena was just using her to test something, to see if she could experimentally dip her toes into another gender pool. If that were the case, she doesn’t think she could stand to see Serena with another woman. A man, sure, they have something Bernie can’t give to Serena. But a woman?

Bernie sifts through her closet, locating an outfit for the so-called formal dinner. What would Serena be wearing to it? She wouldn’t want to clash with her but… maybe they wouldn’t be going together anyways.

She carefully folds the outfit and lays it down on the messy pile of clothes already in the suitcase. A cherry on top of a crumbling cake.

She zips up her suitcase and heads out of the bedroom. But the way Serena smiled against her lips, she wouldn’t do that unless she enjoyed it right?

She locks the front door and stuffs her bag into the back of her car. _Maybe if I show up in my car Serena will just concede._

Bernie parks her car beside Serena’s and knocks on the front door before she lets herself in to the house. To the side of the door she sees a suitcase packed and ready, can hear Serena give last instructions to Jason in the kitchen.

“Serena, ready to go?” Bernie calls out, waiting by the front door.

She hears Serena stop before a, “Good morning Doctor Bernie!” comes from Jason. She chuckles and responds with a similar greeting.

“Bernie, can you come in here please?” Serena asks. Bernie enters the kitchen and sees Serena standing by the sink, arms crossed and eyebrow raised. “Jason here won’t be the middle man and choose who will drive. We have to come up with another solution.”

“I know, I can quiz you! First person to get 20 questions right wins.” Jason smiles at both of them.

Serena shakes her head, “I don’t have the mind to do a pop quiz. We need something less…intellectual.” She taps the side of her nose before her eyes light up, looking straight at Bernie, “I’ll arm wrestle you.”

“What?” Bernie exclaims. “You’re having a laugh, no!”

Serena just grins at her and takes a seat at the table, arm situated. “Come on, big macho army medic.”

Bernie, at a loss for words, takes a seat across from her, bewildered.

“Okay Jason, just like your strongest man alive shows, you get to be the one to make sure no one’s cheating.” Serena says, not looking away from Bernie.

“Alright Auntie Serena,” Jason responds, standing by the refrigerator. Bernie puts her hand into the warmth of Serena’s, feeling herself blush.

Serena signals to start and Bernie pushes with all her strength. Serena is much stronger than she thought and they’re locked in a vertical position, neither of them giving any lee-way. She soon feels Serena’s arm start to quiver, thinks if she can just fight back for a bit longer she’ll make it through.

“You both aren’t making much progress.” Jason says, Bernie looks up at him and smiles through the effort. But something hanging on the fridge catches her attention. She can’t see very clearly, needs her glasses for that sort of distance, but she thinks she can make out the photo.

It looks like that day they took a trip to a garden show. If she remembers correctly, Jason had taken the photo. There was an arch covered in different vines, blooming with flowers, somewhere in the depths of the garden. Serena had exclaimed how beautiful it looked and proceeded to pull Bernie under it for a picture.

Bernie had forgotten about the photo, just another activity they did on the long and hot summer day. But Serena had put it up on the fridge, like something you’d do for a person who’s a part of your family…

She feels the back of her hand being slammed into the table and pulls back in surprise, joy written all over Serena’s face. “Ah ha!”

Bernie waits until Serena finishes a seemingly endless stream of post-victory gloating on her way to the door before going over to inspect the photo. They’re both wearing sunglasses, Serena with a sun hat on top of her head. Serena’s got her arm looped around hers to hold her in place, because as she thinks back, Bernie did not want to be in a photo that day, all hot and sticky.

Nonetheless, Jason had taken the photo just as Bernie was laughing at how hard Serena had to hold on to keep her there. Serena with her own huge smile on her face.

“Bernie you coming?” Serena calls from the front door.

“Yes, yeah, I’ll be there in a minute.” She wants to keep looking at the photo, try to decipher some secret hidden message that she feels should be there. She sighs.

Serena’s waiting by the front door, car keys in hand, looking like she just caught a canary. “You can carry my bags.” She says whilst opening the door and heading out. Bernie rolls her eyes and follows her, Serena’s luggage in hand.

Bernie gets into the passenger seat as Serena tries to start the car. She hears the sound of the engine turning over but not of it catching. Serena keeps twisting her wrist to try to get the car to start.

After the fifth time of turning the key, she hears Serena mutter, “Bloody hell.” And then Serena’s getting out of the car and removing the bags from the back. Bernie gets up from the car as well.

“Serena Campbell, giving up so easily?” Bernie jokes. Serena just flashes her a glare that would make any F1 scurry away, but Bernie just laughs. She opens her trunk for Serena to deposit the bags. “We’re having the roof off and I get to choose the music.”

Serena knows how much Bernie dislikes having the roof down on long trips, makes her hair uncombable, but she stays quiet. They push the roof back together and get in. “Ready?” Bernie looks over and asks. Serena just grumbles. Bernie chuckles, starts the car and heads east into the sunrise.

*****

“Bernie, pull over!” It’s been bad enough not being the one who’s driving, now she’s getting poured upon by clouds that turned from fluffy sheep to angry sheets of grey. Neither of them saw it coming; rain clouds just came out of nowhere.

The thing about the M4 though, is that once an exit is passed it’s next bloody year before another one is reached. “I’m trying Serena!” Bernie yells over the rain and wind.

They’re both getting drenched, the rain hitting them hard as they speed down the motorway. She looks over at Bernie who’s furiously wiping away the rain from her face, sunglasses forgotten amidst the darkening skies.

Serena would guess they’re half way there, and now this happens. It started so nicely too. Aside from driving in the direction of the blinding sun, it had been nice. Warm temperature, moderately clear skies, and excellent company.

Bernie was quiet to start with, but that’s just what she’s like. Tries to get the feel of the situation before commencing into it. Once Serena started talking about their seminar, Bernie, who seemed happy about the conversation topic, joined in. Soon enough Bernie started picking out barns that she liked off the side of the motorway, and Serena was making up abstract stories about random people in their cars.

No one mentioned what happened the night before.

_Could mean anything_ , Serena thinks. She knows Bernie, or at least she wants to believe that, and Bernie needs time to think things through. _But how much time?_

“Look! There’s an exit.” She tells Bernie, pointing.

They’re both shivering by the time Bernie parks the car on the side of road. They quickly get out to pull the roof back up. Bernie looks like a drowned rat, her once fluffed up hair now a soggy mess.

“Serena, I’m so sorry, I had no idea.” Bernie says as they flop back in the car, she turns on the heat and Serena throws her a grateful smile.

“You couldn’t have known.” She leans her head back, feels her hair squeeze some water out. “That’s just Britain for you I suppose.”

“I think we’re somewhere near Reading, we could get something to eat if you’d like.” Bernie tilts her head in question.

“What, looking like we just got out of the wash? I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Bernie looks through the windshield, “It’s not going to let up for quite a while. We could either sit here or go into town, I’d much rather prefer having something warm to drink than sit here in a puddle.”

Serena shifts in her soggy seat, airing out the car will probably do them both good. “Okay, lead the way.”

*

The café is colourful. Much too modern for their likings, but it was the closest thing they could find. They run inside and take a seat near the window. Serena faces the window and Bernie sits facing the rest of the café. It’s how they typically sit. Serena puts it down to Bernie wanting to always be aware of what’s going on, wants to be able to see it happen before it does.

A young server comes and takes their orders. They’re both still soaked, most likely leaving little puddles here and there but nobody around them mentions anything.

Soon their food arrives, Bernie decided to get a full English breakfast, made up with all the works from sausages to beans to pancakes. Serena gawks at the heap on the plate, Bernie just shrugs and says, “Driving takes a lot of energy out of me.”

“Oh I’m sure it does, because driving for over an hour is more exhausting then a four-hour surgery. Which you usually do only on a coffee.” Serena smirks, starts in on her own sandwich and chips. They’ve both gone into long surgeries on empty stomachs and came out the other side feeling fine, if not a little sore on the feet.

“Luxuries Serena, that’s what we have to live on these days.” Bernie remarks raising her fork containing a sausage in the air before taking a large bite. Serena grins at how comfortable Bernie is around her.

“What do you mean by ‘these days’.” Serena asks as she takes a forkful of hash browns from her friend’s plate, earning a grumble from the blonde.

“You know, our impending old age,” Bernie steals chips from her plate, dipping it in her baked beans. “Before we start breaking bones and grocery shopping in packs.”

Serena quirks an eyebrow, “Speak for yourself. Maybe in my old age I’ll like going out grocery shopping with yo— friends, with friends.” It’s Bernie’s turn to raise an eyebrow, sipping at her tea.

“I suppose we can stick together then, when I break my hip, you can take me to the shop.” They laugh together, continuing to eat their food. Serena starts to picture them older, grey hair, arched spines, going out together with arms linked. _Would we still be friends that far ahead?_

She thinks yes at first but then she _really thinks_ about it. She thinks about it as they banter back and forth, as they finish their meals, as they order pastries and more tea. They are sharing the pastries; one will eat half and pass it to the other, like friends do, _really good friends._

She passes Bernie a chocolate croissant she’s half eaten. Watches as Bernie pays no mind to the fact that Serena’s mouth has been on it. Subtly observes over the rim of her teacup as Bernie finishes it off. _Friends watch friends eat right? Maybe I should say something…_

“Serena, you alright? You seem out of sorts.” Bernie places her hand over Serena’s on the table. Her first instinct is to pull away, not used to people being personally concerned about her.

She looks at Bernie’s hand on hers and turns her palm up, tightens the hold. “Um, yes. I’ve actually wanted to ask…talk about something.” Bernie awaits patiently, brows furrowed in concern. “You see, the thing is that—“

“Serena! Is that you?” She winces at the shrill voice, turns to look at the owner of it. Her eyes widen to see Liberty Campbell. “Oh my God! It is.”

Liberty walks towards their table in the far corner, leaving Edward perplexed by the entrance before he decides to follow his wife.

“How weird is it to see you here? In all the places. And I see you’ve got a…friend.” Liberty looks towards their hands on the table, Bernie makes to pull away but for some reason Serena holds on to her.

“Hello Liberty, Edward.” She scowls at Edward and notices from the corner of her eye Bernie’s surprised look, as if she’s saying ‘so _that’s_ Edward’.

“Bernie Wolfe,” Bernie shakes Liberty’s hand, then Edward’s with noticeable force. “I work at Holby, Serena and I are—“

“Dating!” Serena blurts out. “We’re together. You know, domestically.” Everyone falls silent, mouths hanging open, including Bernie’s.

“I…we didn’t know you were…” Liberty stammers out looking towards Edward who now seems completely flummoxed.

“Well no one knows everything, do they now. Right Bernie?” She pats Bernie’s hand. All Bernie does is nod her head.

“That must have been…difficult.” Serena tilts her head at Liberty’s words. “To have, um, at your age.”

“My age?” Serena drawls out.

“Very brave I think, don’t you agree Edward? Not many women could do what you’re doing.”

“Thank you for your approval Liberty.” The younger woman smiles brightly. Serena wishes she had eyes on the back of her head so she could roll them without people seeing. “When you find the one, you’ve got to do whatever to hold on to them.” She squeezes Bernie’s hand, unbeknownst to Liberty or Edward. She hopes Bernie gets the meaning of her words, she can’t read her face.

“It’s good you’re as happy as Edward and I.” Liberty says with emphasis on ‘Edward and I’. They soon say their goodbyes and leave the café.

Serena turns back to Bernie, “I guess they didn’t care why we’re here then.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Bernie says plainly, removing her hand from Serena’s grasp. “Shall we go?”

Serena nods, noticing the changed mood from the other woman.

They split the cost of the meal and head outside to their still-wet car seats. It’s not raining as hard now, just a light drizzle, the only thing that’s hard now is Bernie’s stern look. She doesn’t make eye contact with Serena as they leave the café, or get into the car.

Serena knows this type of quiet, this type of avoidance. When she makes a comment about the weather, Bernie just grunts in response, and at that Serena knows not to say anymore.

And she doesn’t for the rest of the drive. Bernie doesn’t initiate anything either, not even a protest when Serena changes the radio station all too often.

They reach the hotel near the conference building. Nothing grand, but nicer than others she’s seen this far south.

Check-in is quiet and easy, no fuss, no overbookings. Two rooms side by side. They’re silent the whole way up, the elevator feeling like a metal cage. She desperately wants to talk to Bernie, to say anything, but when they get to their rooms Bernie just mentions that she’s going to unpack and change, and they go their separate ways.

Serena wants to scream. Sometimes Bernie is so hard to crack. Serena thinks that Bernie could go a whole year without any human contact and come out the other side sane.

She decides to mull through activities, to wait Bernie out. She unpacks slowly, placing everything in its rightful place. She runs the shower cooler than normal, wanting to clear her thoughts.

It doesn’t do anything to help.

She’s just putting her socks on when there’s a knock at her door. _Finally_.

She opens it to see Bernie nervously standing there, hair still slightly wet and messy all over, blue skinny jeans and a black jumper on. _How utterly Bernie._ “I was thinking we could go to the conference area, see the competition.”

_That’s not was I was hoping you’d say._ “Let me just get my things, you can come in.”

Bernie follows her slowly, stands and watches as Serena gathers her bag and slips her shoes on. Serena can feel her gaze burn holes in her, _is that because of anger?_

“Okay ready?” Bernie nods and they head out.

*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What! I've drawn this out more? Yes.


	11. An encouraging nudge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, I managed to put this up on schedule despite an interesting night in The Village yesterday. Enjoy!

“Only highly trained surgeons, familiar with trauma, would fully understand the lengths and complications of this procedure.” A short man says to a group of people.

Booths are set up all around in what looks like a gymnasium. “It’s a good thing Hanssen didn’t sign us up to do one of these show and tells.” Serena whispers to her.

“I doubt that man has ever done trauma in his life,” Bernie says back. They pass many booths; some have posters put up like a grade school science fair. There are demonstrations on CPR, trauma tactics, and new state of the art medical equipment. Sign-ups for workshops are available, and they decide to attend one on Major Incidents & Triage Sieve.

The workshop is more for Serena, to see how others deal with trauma triage. Bernie actually thinks their method is a bit sloppy, but says nothing when the presenter asks if anyone has questions.

When they exit the stuffy room Serena says to her, “they could probably learn a thing or two from you.” Bernie responds with a small smile and nothing else. She sees Serena’s mouth downturn in a frown; _I can’t do this right now_ , she thinks before excusing herself, mutters something about wanting to go see some booths.

She wanders the large space, not focusing on anything in particular except trying to not find Serena’s form in the crowd of people. She spots a familiar tall frame and approaches him. “Sacha.”

He turns towards her with a large smile. “I was wondering where you’d be in all this. Really great stuff here.” He’s wearing one of his outlandish coloured shirts. Bernie smiles at it, can always trust Sacha to make you feel better without actually doing anything.

“Yeah,” she agrees, pointing over his shoulder at a booth. “I saw someone describing a piece of equipment that Keller could benefit from.”

“Oh! The one for AP resection? With the stern looking man who looks like he’s the one with something stuck up his arse?” Bernie lets out a honk and quickly covers her mouth, she thought that too when she watched the man speak. The newly designed tools used for the procedure looked beneficial, but the way it was presented left much to be desired.

“Yes exactly,” she responds between laughs. “I thought you could recommend it to Hanssen.”

“Here’s hoping Hanssen will consider it.” They both know Hanssen can be hard to convince, especially if it will cost the hospital something. He browses the crowd before turning to ask her something, “are you and Serena together?”

Taken aback Bernie defensively retorts, “No. Why would you think that?” She feels her cheeks burn.

Lost, Sacha says, “I just thought you drove together. I was wondering where she was in the crowd.”

Her shoulders relax, _that’s_ what Sacha thought. “She’s somewhere in here, we split up after a workshop, that’s all.” She gestures around the room.

He leans in, peering at her, “ _Is_ that all? I know I’m not one for being perceptive, but I know you two are close.”

Bernie desperately looks for a way out, starts to shuffle away from Sacha.

Sacha is scrutinizing her when his face lights up brightly. “No! Wait, you two are? No, the rumors are true?”

Bernie freezes, “What rumors?” She asks this loudly and people around them turn towards the sound. Feeling self-aware, she drags Sacha away from the crowd. “Sacha?”

“There’s just been word about how the clinical leads on AAU work so well together, there must be something more going on.” He anxiously says. “Nobody really thinks it’s true. But then you see both of you together and it just makes you wonder…”

“Oh...” She rubs her chin, fingers digging into her skin. Is that what people thought of them? That a good working relationship can’t happen without something untoward happening between them? “There’s nothing going on Sacha, Serena and I…” She stops, not knowing how to describe it.

“I get it.” Sacha says after a moment. “You’re friends, but it’s complicated.” He puts a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “It doesn’t have to be though.”

She stares at Sacha, at a loss for words.

He offers a sad smile. “You two should go for it. If you’re worried about Serena, I think she’s keen on you. And that’s just from watching you stand together.”

Bernie gapes, does everyone watch them? “Sacha…”

“Sorry," He puts his hand to his chest, "I’m not a relationship guru. Come on, let’s go listen to the rectal man.” Sacha heads back into the crowd and Bernie wordlessly follows, not knowing what else to do.

*****

She’s standing on the other side of the room drinking whatever non-alcoholic drink she got at a refreshments table. From her perspective, it looks as if Sacha is giving her a dressing down. Her eyes are glued to her shoes, hands fidgeting. But then his hand is on her shoulder and that confuses the scenario. Now it seems as if he’s consoling her, _why wouldn’t she tell me first?_

“You’re staring.” She focuses on Ric as Bernie and Sacha join the crowd again.

“I don’t stare Ric, I observe.” She takes a large gulp of her sparkling juice. “Plus, I was just…perusing.”

The man beside her laughs, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you ‘ _peruse_ ’. You see something and you take it, no questions asked.”

She ignores him, they have bickered for 5 years and yet they stay good friends. She takes in his blue dress shirt and black trousers. If anything, he should win for best dressed. “You look good Ric, for someone trying to interrogate me.”

He throws his hands up in defense, “I’m only trying to help a friend.”

“Not doing a very good job in that case.” She tries to find the mop of blonde in the milling people, but has no luck, can’t even spot Sacha.

“What’s troubling you Serena,” he points to her, “And don’t try to avoid the question.”

She looks at him and sighs, fiddles with her necklace. “I saw Edward earlier today, with Liberty of course.”

Ric seems mildly surprised, but more confused than anything. “Okay…” He drawls out. “You’ve seen them together before, why is this any different?”

“I was with Bernie at the time, we were at a café.” Ric peers at her, waiting for her to go on. “They didn’t ask, all she was doing was introducing herself, and I interrupted. But I don’t know why? And now she’s angry or upset, I don’t even know if it’s because of that.”

“Serena, slow down.” She looks into her glass guiltily. “What did you say?”

“I said we were dating.” She pauses, “And then I may have said she was ‘the one’.”

“What!” Ric exclaims, “When did this happen, between you and Bernie?”

“That’s the thing though, we’re friends, and that’s it.”

“Then why say that?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” She slouches; this internal battle has been eating away at her. She’s exhausted all the reasons on why she said that. One could be to make Liberty and Edward jealous, which seems absurd – mildly. Could be some weird role-play, but that makes no sense. The only reason that seems plausible is that she has lost control of her feelings and she can’t seem to gather them together again.

“Well, do you believe it?” Ric interrupts her thoughts. “That is, that Bernie is ‘the one’.” He does air quotations, which makes Serena feel slightly offended.

She skims the crowd again and spots Sacha, switching her gaze to Bernie at his side, she smiles. “I think so.” She states warmly. “That sounds very school-girlish doesn’t it. You probably thought that about each of your six wives.”

She turns her gaze to Ric. “No, actually. There was love, passion. But somewhere in there I knew it wouldn’t last.”

“Ric, that just sounds dreary.”

He waves his hand, “It’s been known that I haven’t picked the best companions. I can’t tell you what to feel Serena. If you _do_ feel something, I would explore it. Bernie is a fine woman.”

“Hey,” She warns.

“For you of course. I don’t quite fall into her category.” He gives her a cheeky grin.

She finishes her drink, wishing the burn was because of alcohol and not carbonic acid. The room of people is starting to thin out because of teatime. She can see most of Bernie now, her back to Serena; chatting to the short man they saw when they first entered.

“Hey,” Ric nudges her with his elbow. “You won’t know until you try.”

Bernie turns around, the man now red-faced and silent. Her eyes go directly to Serena’s as if she knew she was standing there the whole time. “I think you’re right,” She says to Ric without looking away from Bernie. “I just can’t seem to find the right time.”

“From my experience, these things usually come out in heated arguments.” Serena laughs.

“I think that may be why you’ve had six wives.” Ric scowls before laughing with her.

He waggles his finger, “I think you may be right.”

They’re still laughing when Sacha and Bernie join them. “Serena,” Sacha bellows out. “I’ve just been telling Bernie how Ric and I will be coming to your seminar. We’re both excited.”

“Excited,” Serena repeats, she glances at Bernie. “We’ll have to put on a good show then, to make it exciting won’t we?”

“Ah, yes." Bernie says, "We could do a skit, maybe a volunteer from the audience.” Serena smiles and pointedly looks at Ric.

“No no, you’re not making a fool of me ladies.” He walks towards to exit, “Let’s go get something to eat.”

They follow Ric out the door, Serena and Bernie walking side by side with Sacha behind the two. He leans in between the both of them, “If it counts, I’d volunteer.”

She meets Bernie’s gaze and they both fall into laughter. _I could listen to that laugh for the rest of my life_. Serena internally groans, _I need to talk with her._

*****


	12. Letting it unravel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is guys the clincher!

She knows Serena wants to say something. So she keeps finding ways to keep both of them in the company of others. They spend the rest of the evening with Ric and Sacha. Eating in a nearby restaurant, and then drinking at a nearby bar. When they get back to the hotel she feigns tiredness and they go their separate ways.

In the morning they’re alone, but they keep busy going over the keynotes of their seminar. Serena will be speaking about consulting on AAU, the clinical aspect. Whereas Bernie will be explaining what its like to run a trauma unit in the NHS, the limitations and the benefits.

In between their rehearsals in Serena’s room, she changes the subject whenever the atmosphere pivots towards the personal side. She can sense Serena’s frustration, but her father always told her she has the most British Reserve in the family.

The seminar is scheduled for 1pm. She watches Serena walk in front of her as they head towards the lecture room. A blended mixture of professional and alluring, in trousers and a burgundy button-up. Bernie loves that top on Serena. She hopes that one day she can voice her thoughts outwardly to Serena instead of bottling it all in.

They worked on the power point together when they first heard about the seminar. It took drastically long. Always disagreeing about what to put on it, what background to use, and the order of who’s speaking. Eventually Jason had to be the intermediary. Even going as far as organizing who will speak when and for how long. Ric and Sacha wish them luck before they begin.

They take turns speaking; Bernie listens intently to Serena, even though she’s already heard it all. Serena looks so comfortable, it’s hard to believe she’s ever been afraid of public speaking.

When Bernie speaks, she can feel Serena’s eyes on her, tracking her as she walks around the stage. It makes her clear her throat a couple of times to prevent her friend from hearing how anxious its making her.

By the end, the audience have more questions for her rather than Serena, but that’s understandable and Serena doesn’t look put off.

After they finish, Ric and Sacha join them for a late lunch. Small portions because of the formal dinner that evening. Bernie rubs her hands against her thighs to get the over-accumulated sweat off. She desperately wants to avoid tonight. Would rather reach her 9pm curfew in her big, empty, lonely hotel bed. But Serena and Sacha excitedly talk about it, Serena lighting up whenever there’s talk of wine.

How could Bernie not attend when she could see that expression on Serena’s face all night?

They take two hours before the dinner to get ready. Or rather, Serena takes two hours and Bernie takes all but 20 minutes.

She looks at herself in the washroom mirror. She chose a simple black, sleeve-less dress. Something she’s had for years but hardly worn. She curls her hair, applies minimal mascara, and goes to sit on the bed until Serena comes knocking on her door.

When that familiar knock does come, she slips her heels on and opens the door. Serena stands on the other side in a flowing dress. A similar colour to the top she was wearing earlier and Bernie is instantly mesmerized. The neckline is high which highlights the expansion of her chest—.

_Ahem_. She’s sure Serena wants to enjoy the night and not be ogled by everyone, _not even by me probably_.

They share small talk on their way to the conference centre. It’s raining out, casting mirrors on the black asphalt of the road. They walk quickly to and from the taxi, Bernie can feel water run down her back, she grimaces at the uncomfortable sensation.

The dining hall is large, tables at one end and, “Oh no.” She says aloud.

“Oh darling, It’s just a bit of harmless dancing.” She warms at the word _darling_ ; it comes so naturally from Serena. “We can always leave before that starts though, if you want.”

“No, I’ll be a good team player. Stick it out.” She says with a puff. They find their seats at one of the big round tables, adorned with white table clothes and centrepiece flowers. There are already people filling the other seats and they make their greeting.

“Is that what they train you in the Army? To ‘stick it out’ per se?” She glares at the brunette, which makes Serena laugh.

They make idle chat with their table companions, listens to exaggerated stories and talk of children. The food is good, some type of pork, potatoes, and vegetables.

Serena helps herself to the provided wine bottle, talks animatedly with the man next to her. She spots Ric and Sacha at another table. When she catches Sacha’s eye he gives her a thumbs up while mouthing something, but she’s never been one to read lips.

She spends the rest of the meal speaking to a woman who works in Pediatric Trauma, which is interesting to hear. They swap stories and agree to share e-mails in case either of them have questions for the other.

When the meal ends and the dancing begins, Serena says that the man she’s been talking to has asked her to dance. Bernie watches them go to the floor and feels a pang in her stomach.

Others get up to either dance or head out and Bernie wants to be one of the ones to leave, but Ric soon approaches the table and asks for a dance.

“Something on your mind Ms. Wolfe?” Ric asks as they twirl around the room. The smell of rain is streaming into the room through multiple pairs of French doors lining a wall that lead out towards the gardens. It’s refreshing after the humidity of the day.

“Nothing at all Mr. Griffin.” They grin at the formality. She and Ric have had their arguments on AAU, but nothing too significant to cause discomfort. If anything, he’s more of a mutual friend through Serena.

The song rolls into the next and a next, each slower than the last. She sees Serena change multiple partners. The current one being a man with an incredibly expensive watch. But that seems to be the most impressive thing about him as he tries to lead listlessly.

“Now for some reason I find that hard to believe.” Ric says after a while.

“Hmm?” She’s forgotten what they were talking about. Too focused on trying to find something wrong with each of Serena’s partners. Uncoordinated, too drunk, touchy, most likely talking all about himself.

Ric speaks lowly in her ear, “that something or, _someone_ , hasn’t taken a hold of all your attention.”

Bernie pulls back in his arms, eyes wide. He has a gentle knowing smile playing at his mouth. She feels heat crawl up her neck. It’s suddenly very stuffy, too many people around her with eyes that can watch her panic.

“Excuse me,” she says quickly. She hears him call her name but the sound of the approaching rain on cement drowns him and the music out.

*****

She’s only danced with Ric. Part of her is grateful, possessive even. But she’s one to talk. After every song, another man approaches and asks to dance. None of them feels right though. And one even has the audacity to lower his hand below appropriate levels. Which she sets right with a glare.

When she starts to feel her feet hurt, she takes a glance to where Bernie is dancing with Ric. To her surprise, she sees her friend walking quickly towards the pouring rain. _Is she leaving without me?_

Her eyes flicker to Ric’s who was also watching Bernie make a hasty exit. He spots her gaze and juts his head towards the way Bernie just went and she nods back.

She makes her excuse to her dance partner and walks to the doors.

The rain is coming down hard and she sees Bernie standing in front of an over-flowing fountain. Serena stands just under the eaves, shielded from the rain. She crosses her arms, leans against the doorway regarding the woman getting soaked for the second time in two days.

Bernie seems to be muttering about something, splashing the water in the fountain with her hand. If she didn’t know Bernie so well she’d think that the blonde was having good fun.

When her hands come up to cover her face, sounds of yelling pouring out of them, Serena starts to worry. This isn’t just blowing off steam like an F1.

With the combined yelling, splashing, and pacing, she’d call it a panic attack.

“Oh sod it,” she mutters, taking off her heels to avoid slipping, leaving them by the door. She reluctantly takes the first step into the rain, feeling it reach everywhere, she groans.

She approaches slowly, watching where she steps so as to not cut her feet. She can’t make out what Bernie is saying, but she catches a ‘come on Wolfe’.

“Fancy meeting you here,” she tries to joke, but as soon as it slips out she knows it was a mistake. Bernie whips around almost angrily. Hair swirling with the movement causing more rain to hit Serena in the face. Any makeup that Bernie had on, which was minimal to begin with, has been wiped off.

Bernie brushes the fringe out of her eyes, “Serena.” She states.

Serena nods in mock professionalism to try to keep the mood light, even though it’s too far gone by now. “Bernie. We should go back inside, we’ll catch our deaths.”

Bernie shakes her head, “no, you go. I want to stay out here.”

“Bernie,” Serena reasons, moving her hand towards Bernie’s. Another mistake. The other woman takes a step back and crosses her arms in a defensive stance. “Bernie,” She repeats again, a bit more pleading.

“I need time,” she swivels around towards the fountain to try to emphasize her words but Serena isn’t taking any of that.

Stepping quickly around Bernie to stand in front of her she says, “No, I don’t think you do. We’re going to talk right now. Even if we have to stand here until our dresses wash away.”

Bernie has an indignant expression, but stays still. Serena works through what she’s going to say, not expecting it to happen tonight.

“I’m—“ They say at the same time. They share an awkward laugh before Serena gestures for Bernie to go first. Prepares for the worst to happen.

*****

“I’m…mad Serena.” She says in a calm voice. “I’m mad, and I’m confused. And I’m not really sure what’s happening. Between us.” She’s lived half her life and yet she’s reverting back to the years where she had to explain her feelings to a teacher after throwing a book at a classmate.

“I’m confused too Bernie.” She hears Serena say back, relief flooding in at the thought that Serena can’t figure out their relationship either. “You’re mad, but I can’t for the life of me figure out why.

Bernie grows angrier at that, muttering under her breath. When Serena asks her to speak louder she states, “For a vascular surgeon who’s been to Harvard, you can be quite clueless sometimes.”

The lines of Serena’s forehead crease down, “Says the frontline trauma surgeon who avoids feelings like the plague.”

Bernie glares, “you used me Serena, with Edward and Liberty. Trying to make yourself look better or some other reason.” Something flickers across Serena’s face, _confusion or realization?_ Bernie continues, “And what happened in your office, the kiss, I… I don’t know if that was real or not.”

Serena runs a hand through her short brown hair, slicking it back. “It was real to me Bernie.” She pauses, the only sound between them is the rain. “ _You_ are real.”

“Serena, I don’t know what that means. Of course I’m real.”

“I’m not making sense am I?” Bernie doesn’t answer, just watches as Serena swirls her hand in the fountain. “When we were at the café, I wasn’t lying.”

Bernie is even more confused. Has she been missing something? “But we’re not…together Serena. You’re not even—“

“I never thought so either. But I suppose things change when you…meet you right one.” She mimics Bernie’s posture, arms wrapped around herself, “and what I said about the dating. Well, it _was_ partly to shock them. But another part of me is saying it was wishful thinking.”

Bernie gapes at her, “what does that mean, for you?” The rain starts to lighten, but it doesn’t help with the slushy feeling in her gut. She inches closer to Serena, “because I care about you too much to be lead under false pretenses.”

Serena drops her arms, “I wouldn’t…”

She raises a hand to stop her, “Friends I could’ve done Serena. I would’ve been friends with you until the day you didn’t want to be.”

Serena makes to speak again but Bernie silences her, wanting to say everything before she loses her nerve.

“But we’ve opened something that I don’t think I want to close. If this is just some kind of sapphic experimentation that you missed out on when you were a teenager, then I can’t be the one for you.” She drums her fingers against her mouth, awaiting for the inevitable rejection.

Serena is silent until she meets her gaze, as if needing a connection to make sure Bernie listens to her. She starts to speak, “I’ve mulled this over Bernie, believe me. Is this just a phase? Experimentation like you said? Some sapphic mid-life crisis? I feel like pulling out my hair. I can’t get you out of my head.”

Bernie knew this would happen. Get too close to someone and eventually it’ll all recoil. Would she leave Holby, AAU and the trauma unit? She’s grown fond of it all, of civilian life, of Serena. She feels that sinking feeling in her bones, they’re brittle but she has to keep them from shattering in front of Serena.

Threading both hands through her wet hair, pushing it all back, she starts to create space between them. Not wanting to be able to make out all the lines of Serena’s face as she tells her she’s sorry for leading her on.

“It’s okay Serena. You don’t have to explain yourself, I get it.” She rambles quickly, backing up further. “You’re confused and you need time—“

Serena slaps the surface of the water laying in the fountain, stopping her babbling mid-sentence. “You _don’t_ get it Bernie.” She slowly closes the space Bernie just made. “I want you to be in my head.” _Step_. “I want to be around.” _Step_. “I want to be able to spot you in a crowded room and just look at you.” _Step_. “And I so desperately want you to feel the same.”

Bernie feels the sincerity in her voice, can’t distinguish whether it’s just the rain or a tear running down her face. “I do Serena.” She steps impossibly close and nudges one of Serena’s hands, holds it there until Serena grabs it tightly. Almost painfully. “I feel all of that, and more.”

She smiles brightly at Serena, half-laughing with a choked sob. Serena does the same, the water caught on her eyelashes making her eyes shine. She raises their joined hands and clasps it with her other hand. “So, what now Bernie? Do we start a…relationship?”

She brings Serena’s hand to her mouth, kissing it lightly. “I think from the looks of it we’ve had a head start on that. Probably from others perspectives we’ve been courting this whole time.”

“Courting huh?” Serena quirks an eyebrow, wipes some hair that’s fallen into Bernie’s eyes with her free hand. Serena leans up on her toes – Bernie’s heels causing a height difference – until they’re both eye to eye, takes a glance at her lips. “Does that mean we get to do this now?”

Bernie looks at her fondly, nodding lightly. Serena’s warm hand moves to the back of her neck pulling their lips together. Like the first kiss it starts slow, they move unhurriedly. The rain has diminished to a drizzle but all Bernie feels is Serena against her.

She brushes her thumb behind Serena’s ear, earning a groan from the brunette. One of Serena’s hands falls to her waist and she feels fingers dig into her side. She tilts her head to let Serena have better access to her, cradling her head all the while.

They both hum as their tongues meet, they push harder against each other, in sync. Bernie is lost in Serena, wrapped in the faint smell of her perfume, the damp yet warmth of her chest against Bernie’s. All she hears is her beating heart and the mewling sounds emanating from the woman in her arms.

Their kisses taper off like the rain as Bernie wraps her arms around Serena’s shoulder. She trails her mouth to Serena’s neck, kissing the skin there before breathing in. She holds Serena in a tight hug, hopes that Serena can feel the emotion in it.

“I think I’m falling for you Serena,” Bernie murmurs in her ear. Tracing it with her lips.

She feels Serena settle back down on her heels, rests her mouth against the crook of Bernie’s neck. “I think I already have.”

“I’m just afraid we’ll fall apart because of some foolish thing I do.” She pulls out of the embrace to look Serena in the eye. “You’d tell me right? If I did something wrong?”

Both of Serena’s hands come up to the sides of her face, she beams at Bernie, a twinkle in her eye. “Only as long as you do the same for me. We’re a team, we’ll set our own pace, okay?” Bernie nods in her hands and Serena kisses her cheek. “Good. Let’s head inside before we do catch our deaths.”

They turn to walk back inside hand in hand. By the doors she spots movement. As they pass from the coolness of the gardens to the humidity of the room, she sees Ric and Sacha on either side of the doors.

“Ladies,” Sacha greets, smile playing at his lips.

Neither of them say anything to the men, both knowing that their moment by the fountain may not have been as private as they had hoped.

They trail water from the dining hall to the taxi, from the taxi to the hotel. She senses that her and Serena are in the same mindset, that they are both exhausted and emotionally drained. They agree to have showers and prepare for bed in their separate rooms, but that Serena will come to hers after she’s done.

Serena does as she promised and knocks softly at Bernie’s door, dressed comfortably in her pajamas. They share a long languid kiss on the inside of the door, Bernie pushing Serena against it, before they settle in the bed together. They lie on their sides facing each other, tracing lines on faces and threading fingers through hairs. They eventually fall asleep with smiles on their faces.

*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man that was all mushy-gushy wasn't it.  
> Next chapter will be the epilogue which i hope to post before the weekend's out. Thanks for following this to the end-all!


	13. Predictability is nature

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A nice little epilogue because who doesn't love closure?

The weather is beautiful, unlike the weekend they came here last. Bernie is driving again. Serena would like to think it’s because she likes admiring Bernie when she can’t shy away or glare at her. But in all honesty it’s because she lost in rock paper scissors, Bernie’s too good at it, can read her mind, Jason says.

The road runs jagged along the coast, Bernie swerving around the curves, not slowing down one bit, just looks over at Serena and smiles.

They’ve been planning this day for almost a year, ever since they professed their feelings for each, since AAU was deemed the ‘love nest’, since Bernie moved in with her 5 months ago.

They are comfortable together, will call each other out on bad decisions during the day and be able to fall into bed kissing that night.

Serena never imagined what it feel like to be in bed with a woman, let alone Bernie. But she decided the first moment Bernie kissed down her chest, leaving red marks on her breasts and stomach, that it was bloody amazing.

After the first time Bernie went down on her, spending a good amount of time exploring every inch of Serena, they had casually laid on their backs beside each other. Serena was panting, Bernie was smiling, and she had brought up Marcus.

Not a typical topic after a passionate moment but Serena just said, “Marcus was right about one thing.”

“Right about what?” Bernie had asked, tension in her voice.

Serena turned on her side to face Bernie, trailing a hand down Bernie’s neck to her abdomen, “that you’d eat me alive.” She said with a laugh before crushing her lips to Bernie’s.

They had rolled around kissing and laughing until they had to stop to catch their breaths.

 

Now, after many months of domestic bliss, they get to have their day by the sea. They couldn’t come during the winter, and their schedules never worked for a non-weekend afternoon. But they had booked off this day well before and here they are.

Bernie parks the car in a shady spot. They unload their belongings from the back, a blanket, basket, umbrella if need be, all the necessities.

They choose a spot off from the hustle of people, secluded for just themselves. She dons on her white large-brimmed hat, and Bernie a simple black cap, ponytail pulled through the back.

“This is nice,” Bernie murmurs as she pulls out glasses and a bottle of wine. Serena sighs in agreement, stretches out her legs, and leans back on her hands.

They sit pressed up against each other, arm to arm, thigh to thigh, sipping at their drinks and eating the sandwiches they made together, with the help of Jason.

The sky is clear and the breeze is warm and Serena soaks it all in. She smiles at Bernie’s circular aviators and the goofy grin on her face as she watches a dog bark at the waves.

She interlocks her fingers with Bernie’s and lifts her hand to her mouth. “I love you Berenice Griselda Wolfe,” She ruffles through her purse by her side. “And because of that, I’ve gotten you a gift.”

She holds up a small parcel wrapped in simple brown paper and a bow. Bernie frowns, “For me Serena? I haven’t anything for you.”

“Hush, just open it.” She passes the gift to Bernie who unwraps it tentatively, throwing uneasy glances to her.

“Oh Serena…” Bernie throws the paper away to reveal a simple wallet.

“I know it’s nothing too extravagant, but you’ve needed a new one. So, there it is.” She says, taking up Bernie’s hand again. Bernie turns the wallet over, inspecting it. “Open it.”

She does as Serena tells her. The wallet is empty save for a lone picture in a transparent sleeve. They’ve been taking more and more photos together. Ever since Bernie revealed how much she loved the photo on Serena’s fridge. Serena loves that photo too, stuck it on the fridge the day after their garden trip. It’s still up there along with plenty more photos of her, Bernie and Jason.

But the photo she put into the wallet doesn’t contain Jason. It’s just of her and Bernie. She contemplated putting a picture of all three of them, but eventually she chose not to, because then Cameron and Charlotte should be included too. Serena will admit it was a bit of a possessive choice, but she hopes Bernie will appreciate the sentiment.

The photo was taken on Bernie’s birthday at the beginning of the year. Bernie had just recently moved in and on her request wanted a quiet night in.

As Jason was heading out to Allan’s for the night (upon Serena’s request), he had taken a photo of them. They were comfortably sitting on the couch together, wine in hands, fire roaring. Both their faces were flush from the heat in front of them, both smiling brightly, heads slightly titled towards each other.

It’s a simple photo, they’ve got plenty of other photos on other special occasions, but that one spoke volumes for her. It showed a certain domestic intimacy that both of them treasure so much.

 

“Thank you,” Bernie lays the wallet on the blanket before kissing her lightly. “I love it Serena,” She whispers against Serena’s lips.

She feels herself being pushed back, Bernie half on top of her pecking across her jaw.

“I love the wallet,” Bernie kisses around her eyes. ‘I love the picture,” She nuzzles their noses together.

Bernie sucks on her lower lip, bites it gently causing Serena to open her eyes.

Bernie stares down at her, smile bright, lowers her head to capture Serena’s lips before saying, “And I love you Serena Campbell.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Serena breathlessly responds, lifting her head up to catch Bernie’s lips between hers, caressing Bernie’s head and pulling her down.

After a while, she hears Bernie’s distinctive honk against her neck. She sits up, Bernie mimicking her position.

“What?” She asks as Bernie passes her a wine glass.

“I was just thinking how it’s a good thing you’re so assertive.” Bernie says while taking sip.

“Oh,” She makes a half smile, suggestiveness in her voice.

Realization dons on Bernie, “no, not like that. With Marcus.”

“Marcus?” She asks quizzically.

“Yes, If you had given him the wallet, we would’ve never met.” Bernie says with sadness.

Serena thinks about it for a moment, “you worked in the ED and you lived 2 blocks from me Bernie. We were bound to meet at some point.” She tries to cheer Bernie up with the last point. But the more she thinks about the more she knows the chances of that happening is slim.

They would’ve just been two strangers who lived and worked in a close proximity of each other.

“In another reality we probably would have been enemies, what with your ED/AAU readmission problem.” She bumps shoulders with Bernie, “that could’ve turned into something, maybe even something steamy.”

Bernie chuckles lightly but still seems put out by the idea of not knowing each other.

“Hey,” she says insistently, making Bernie look at her. “We’re here, we’re together. Neither of us are about to pack our bags and head out on a secondment. I’m happy Bernie.”

Bernie’s neutral face soon breaks out into a grin, “I am too.”

Serena smooths a thumb across Bernie’s cheek, “good, then let’s keep that up shall we?” Bernie nods into her hand. She turns to watch the rolling waves, sees Bernie do the same.

She sips at her wine and smiles as Bernie tells her all the facts she knows about the ocean. Some she’s learned from the army, but mostly all are from Jason in preparation of this trip. And all she can think about is how good it is to be with this woman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anybody was wondering where the fic title came from, it's from The Infinite Sea (book two of the 5th Wave trilogy)(good book horrible movie).  
> Okay that's it, thanks everyone.


End file.
